Polaris
by kaiserklee
Summary: -Tempest Sequel- Plagued by guilt, Anna suffers nightmares of the atrocities she committed as Queen. Ever since the Eternal Winter, people around the world have been stricken by madness—and when a familiar shadow magic reawakens within her, Anna fears the Sorcerer's return. As the world verges on collapse, Anna and Elsa seek the power of the Golden Flower to correct her wrongs.
1. Polaris

**a/n:** Revisions: Sentence-level edits.

Hello, I'm back! Chapters 1 and 2 have been posted.

Here's the update schedule: I'm going to post up to Chapter 5 (where we left off), one chapter every two to three days, so we'll be up to speed by the end of the week. After that, updates will come as soon as I'm done with the next _next_ chapter, i.e. I'll post Chapter 6 once I'm done writing Chapter 7, to ensure a steady flow of updates. In the case that I don't finish, I'll post the next chapter two weeks after the last, so the longest you'll have to wait is two weeks. Thank you for waiting!

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Polaris**

It had been a quiet thing, revolution.

But for the people of the Southern Isles, revolution was an inevitable truth. Theirs was a kingdom lumbering towards its death, a stagnant beast bloated and laboring for breath. One day, they knew, it would fall. Deep in their hearts they prayed for revolution, for deliverance—for change. And when the skies twisted from white to grey to black, when the billow of stormclouds gathered at the height of the castle, they would all bear witness to the face of their salvation.

A terrible, beautiful thing.

Sol had been there to witness it, the ascension of the queen who answered their prayers—the goddess who brought with her the light of the Polaris.

* * *

"My name is Anna, and I am your new queen."

Where she stood at the balcony, she could look down and see the gaggle of commoners congregated on the castle grounds. Not many were present.

Fear was a completely rational thing.

Anna surveyed the small crowd and found them unremarkable, save, perhaps, for the one wide-eyed girl who had the gall to return her gaze and even _smiled_. Anna curled her lips. Treacherous, this one. There was a rot there, festering beneath the surface; and it reminded her of _him_. But she didn't matter at all, and _he_ certainly didn't anymore, because he was part of her but also _gone_. Anna forgot the face of that girl as soon as her gaze moved on, and she looked now to the trembling soldiers, the shuddering peasants. Not many at all, and standing so high above them, Anna spoke too quietly to be heard even by those few; but everyone in the Southern Isles would know her voice regardless.

It carried on the winds of her storm to every stone, every home.

Anna moved her finger and the Mirror cast its light throughout the kingdom, so that the people could see her image, witness her as she was—perfection. She could _hear_ the mortals gasping for breath below.

"Elsa has tormented you all long enough," Anna said.

It was true even for Anna. At this very moment, that beautiful snowflake heart thrummed in time with her own. With every trickle of blood that ran through her veins, Anna felt a rush of warmth; and with every pulse of her heart, she felt such love for Elsa that she could barely stand, could barely breathe. Just the _thought_ of Elsa brought a thrill _,_ and she reveled in the pleasure as much as she reviled its sin.

"I come to deliver you now."

She had been graced with deliverance as well. There was no more pain. That realization had dominated her mind since her rebirth: no more pain, no more aches in her heart, no more of the old hunger in her soul. Being free of it was ecstasy, pleasure distilled to its purest form. Every breath of air was ambrosia.

"From this moment on, I will be your protector, your savior…your goddess."

And she felt so _powerful_. For once in her life, she had control over her fate. Here and now, she was no longer a plaything to be positioned at the whim of others. She wasn't the girl taken from her home anymore…or the boy robbed of his future. She could do anything. With nary a thought the elements obeyed her will. She could move the wind and the sky as though they were her limbs. She was the _world._

"Watch," Anna said, letting her audience see the image that she could see, the solitary ship sailing its desperate escape. Elsa. "Watch as your oppressor sinks to the bottom of the ocean, and know freedom."

These were _her_ words, of course, not her own. Anna had never learned how to put on an air of regality, and Edmund had always worn his mask of naivety, but Elsa was noble. Elsa exuded nobility as though it were her birthright. Anna would carry this part of Elsa even after her passing. Their hearts would beat as one for the rest of eternity…so she wasn't killing Elsa, not really. She was setting her free of a shell. What was important…was already here, with her, forever.

 _Don't be afraid, Elsa._

 _You'll be with me, always._

Anna danced.

And all those present witnessed the divine judgment exacted by their new goddess, as the sky tore apart like a gaping maw and revealed the tempest within its starless depths. There would be no reprieve from this. Even the ancient earth shook from the force of her magic, this magic that bent all things to her will, ripped them asunder and remade them at her whim. It would be seared into their minds—the memory of absolute power, the vengeful majesty of a goddess.

Anna danced, and lightning howled.

Feeling even this fraction of her divinity would no doubt drive the weakest of these mortal men into madness, as her magic seared through the fragile tissue of their minds. It hardly mattered. At the end of it all, there was the suffocating heat of a ship set ablaze, the crushing darkness of a pitch-black sea; and then, finally, silence. Relief from the ecstasy of torture that was her magic.

It was over in a second.

Elsa was dead.

 _Could you feel my love for you…?_

 _In your last, perfect moments…?_

"Let there be light," Anna murmured, wiping away the tears that had fallen, and the twisted canvas of the sky unraveled. Released from the horror of her magic, her spectators dropped to their knees. There they lay, prostrate, foreheads pressed to the snow, mewling and keening incoherent words of praise.

These were her people, howling and echoing her despair.

Anna felt comforted that she was no longer alone.

Whatever light filtered through the stormclouds was cold on her skin, and that was a surprise. Even when she spread her arms wide and raised her head, let the sunlight wash over her face, she felt nothing. She doubted she would ever feel warm again. An unexpected drawback, but one she could accept. As light reflected over the snow, her silhouette became bathed in that pure white radiance.

And that was the Queen Anna who would be remembered by the Southern Isles.

She was…a beautiful sight.

* * *

 ** _A̱_** ** _͔͉_** ** _̙n̷̖̜̥n̷̖̜̥a_** ** _͍_** ** _̗̙̻_** ** _͎͎͎_** ** _̗ w_** ** _͜͝_** ** _̗̼̞_** ** _͎_** ** _̞_** ** _͍_** ** _̳a_** ** _͙_** ** _̱̗̜_** ** _͖_** ** _̹̤̙̥_** _ **k̨**_ ** _͟_** ** _̴̺_** ** _͍_** ** _̥̜̭̠_** ** _͉_** ** _ę̴̬̖̳ u_** ** _҉_** ** _̝̰_** ** _͈_** ** _p̷̰̫_** ** _͍_** ** _̼_** ** _͓_** **_p̷̰̫_** ** _͍_** ** _̼_** ** _͓_** ** _ļ_** ** _͕_** ** _̲̩̯_** ** _͇_** ** _̺_** ** _͚_** _ **e**_ _ **͟**_ _ **̜̗̫̯̜̀**_ _ **͖͎**_ _ **a̟̼̠̩**_ ** _s_** ** _͜҉_** ** _̠̞̖̰̞̜ ̸̪̦̭́_** ** _͔͕͖_** ** _̪̪_** _ **e**_ _ **͝**_ _ **̶̮̳̠ .**_ _ **͟**_ _ **̞̩̗̬̼̰ͅ**_ _ **͙**_ _ **̜**_

 ** _A̱_** ** _͔͉_** ** _̙n̷̖̜̥n̷̖̜̥a_** ** _͍_** ** _̗̙̻_** ** _͎͎͎_** ** _̗ A̱_** ** _͔͉_** ** _̙n̷̖̜̥n̷̖̜̥a_** ** _͍_** ** _̗̙̻_** ** _͎͎͎_** ** _̗ A̱_** ** _͔͉_** ** _̙n̷̖̜̥n̷̖̜̥a_** ** _͍_** ** _̗̙̻_** ** _͎͎͎_** ** _̗_**

 _W̟̲_ _͔_ _̺_ _͙͕_ _̥̪_ h̷̸̤̜̙̹̰̺͎͘é̢̘̳͔̥̕h̷̸̤̜̙̹̰̺͎͘ _y̴̧̡_ _͇_ _o_ _҉_ _̥̺̥ų_ _͏_ _̹̲̤̼_ _͖_ _̱_ s͓͍̝̩͚̣̘a̢̫̥y̨̞͙͓̳̞ ̵͙ _t_ _͠_ _̷̯̕ḩ̶̫̼̕_ a͙̱̗̜͖̹̤̙̥t̷̠̗̺͉̜͈ _n_ _͟_ _̹̺_ _a_ _͢_ _̺m̵̟̖̜_ _͚_ _̺e̡̨̕_ _͍҉_ _̜_ _͕_

 _W̟̲_ _͔_ _̺_ _͙͕_ _̥̪_ h̷̸̤̜̙̹̰̺͎͘o̲̪̬͍̠͉͠ͅ _d̴̷̺_ _͕_ _o_ _y̴̧̡_ _͇_ _o_ _҉_ _̥̺̥ų_ _͏_ _̹̲̤̼_ _͖_ _̱ m_ _͝͏_ _̬̯_ _͇_ é̢̘̳͔̥̞̕ _a_ _͏͍͓͎͉_ _̻_ _͕͍_ _n_ _͟_ _̹̺?_

* * *

"Hello, Elsa."

Against all odds, Elsa had returned—but Anna had been expecting her all the same.

She still had too much faith in the one she loved.

A storm of lightning and ice erupted between them, but despite the singing in her blood that came from battle, Anna had been distracted. Perhaps this would be insulting for Elsa, if she knew just how much; Anna knew how prideful she could be. Queen Elsa, always invincible; and now even at her best, she was not just matched but overpowered by the slightest effort. Anna appreciated the lengths that Elsa would go to, though. She adored the concentration on her face, the dedication, as they tore into each other.

Sometimes, distracted, Anna suffered wounds she ought not to. Ice in her flesh. Lightning in her bones. Not that it mattered she was beaten and broken; Anna relished every bit of pain that Elsa gifted. How very much like Elsa to be able to hurt the person she loved! Anna had expected nothing less. They were sharing in this pleasure together, the only constant of their lives. It was the purest form of love…punctured skin and broken bones, cruel words and shattered promises.

It was just unfortunate that Anna couldn't give as much to their battle.

She was still working on her magnum opus.

 _Let there be light._

"You didn't notice," Anna said, lying on the ground as her wounds healed, and Elsa whipped her head towards the Mirror which had supposedly lain dormant throughout their battle.

How careless, Anna thought, and she laughed at the familiar dismay on her face.

Pale light burst forth, striking the heavens with all the rage that she nurtured these long years, these unbearable years of frozen time. Because that was what her life had amounted to. Time had been frozen still from the moment she lost her heart, lost her self.

 _Time has always been stopped still inside…us._

They had never been more than that frightened boy locked in the dark…that terrified girl caught in the currents of something so much greater than her insignificant existence. Anna laughed louder as pain assailed her mind, as the schisms in her psyche widened and everything she knew bled together into a pulp, the two lives and the two sets of memories. So afraid…they had been so afraid…always, afraid…

Why shouldn't time be frozen for everyone else?

"Oblivion," Anna said.

"Please, Edmund." Elsa made a movement, minuscule, likely on reflex. Would she help her up? No. Elsa stopped as soon as Anna pulled herself to her feet, and it _hurt_ to see Elsa so cautious. "Stop this."

 _You really don't see me then, do you…?_

 _I'm still here, Elsa. I still love you like I did._

Anna laughed, tasting blood in her throat, and she swallowed it along with her amusement and distaste. Elsa was still saying that name, Edmund, like he was the only other person here. How deluded. But then, Anna had always loved that about Elsa. Elsa could delude herself better than anyone. How else would she have willingly created a reliquary, to not even realize what she had lost for so long? Still, they would be equals here. Elsa had finally _done_ something of her own choice, and part of her heart had returned. Now if only she would admit the truth she knew just as well as Anna…

Such a laughable thought that Anna was unaware.

Anna _knew_ that she wasn't just Anna anymore.

But did that matter at all? It meant nothing. She was still Anna. No, she was _more_ like Anna than Anna had ever dared to be. All those years doing nothing, standing on the sidelines, weak and powerless…

She had found her lost time.

Light spilled down from the skies and radiated around the world. What she was bringing to life now dwarfed any feat of magic ever before performed. She would freeze the entire world. They could know the despair of nothingness and be free, free as she was now, knowing the truth of meaninglessness.

Bathe in the light and return to darkness…

 _This feeling… Like the floor is collapsing… Like the sky is falling down on me..._

 _I know it well._

 _I know this feeling of despair, and now you'll know it too._

Anna closed her eyes.

* * *

 _"_ _̴̧̳̠́T_ _͝_ _̢̹̥ḩ̶̫̼̕e̡̙_ _͔͈_ _͜͠_ _̜_ _͔_ _̯̭̩̻̺̰r_ _͜_ _̷̻̮̘̺̜ȩ̗̙̩̞_ _͉_ _̦s̩̰̦̖̕ͅ_ _͖_ _̪̺t̷̞ ̴_ _͢_ _̣̞_ _͉_ _̦i_ _͡_ _̥̣̝̀s_ _͍_ _̮_ _͖_ _̭̝̗̪_ _͏͏͍_ _̻̯u̸_ _͔͟͜_ _̮_ _͓_ _p_ _͢_ _̞̯_ _͕_ _̻̪ ̛̫̤̻̪t̶̖̖ͅo_ _͏_ _̵̨̱_ _͈_ _̝_ _͙͓_ _̠̲_ _y̴̧̡_ _͇_ _o_ _҉_ _̥̺̥ų_ _͏_ _̹̲̤̼_ _͖_ _̱._

 _͈͢_ _̝̳_ _͇_ _̫̙̠̗_ h̷̸̤̜̙̹̰̺͎͘o̲̪̬͍̠͉͠ͅ _p̷̰̫_ _͍_ _̼_ _͓_ _e̡̨̕_ _͍_ _h̗_ _͔_ _̞̳̻_ _͙_ _a_ _҉_ _̦̺̀_ _͖_ _̟̫̦_ _͎_ _s_ _͢͝_ _̖̣_ _҉͜_ _̶̯_ _͖͎_ _̟ę̴̬̖̳n_ _͟_ _̹̺ḓ̣̫e̕_ _͢_ _̢̯_ _͍_ _̰̠d̴̷̺_ _͕_ _._ _͜͟͟_ _̮̝_ _͈͢_ _̝̳_ _͇_ _̫̙̠̗_

ḑ̨̞̤͕̲̞̜̹͖͈é̢̘̳͔̥̞̕ṣ̖͚̩̺̝́p̴͈̠a͍̗̙̻͎͎͎̗i̸͏̣̺̬̹̺r҉̩͕̪͢͜ ̹̣̳̬̹̼́ h̷̸̤̜̙̹̰̺͎͘o̲̪̬͍̠͉͠ͅ _p̷̰̫_ _͍_ _̼_ _͓_ _e̡̨̕_ _͍_ ḑ̨̞̤͕̲̞̜̹͖͈é̢̘̳͔̥̞̕ṣ̖͚̩̺̝́p̴͈̠a͍̗̙̻͎͎͎̗i̸͏̣̺̬̹̺r҉̩͕̪͢͜ ̹̣̳̬̹̼́ h̷̸̤̜̙̹̰̺͎͘o̲̪̬͍̠͉͠ͅ _p̷̰̫_ _͍_ _̼_ _͓_ _e̡̨̕_ _͍_ ḑ̨̞̤͕̲̞̜̹͖͈é̢̘̳͔̥̞̕ṣ̖͚̩̺̝́p̴͈̠a͍̗̙̻͎͎͎̗i̸͏̣̺̬̹̺r҉̩͕̪͢͜ ̹̣̳̬̹̼́

 **R** **͙͢** **̻e̷̛̙̳̳̙̟̤̼ͅm̸̴̛̠̰̮̰̟̼̘** **͖** **ḛ** **͈** **m** **҉** **̡** **͔** **b** **͙** **̝̥̫** **͈** **̫̟̱̮e** **͞** **̗** **͕** **̠** **͕** **̲r̵** **͕** **̮̮̤̟̞ ̝̜̲̺̙̠** **͇͙** **t** **͝** **̯́h** **͟͝** **̨** **͚** **̹̯̮** **͈** **̬̺** **͍** **ͅa̟̼̠̩̠t́** **͙͉** **̪̪** **͔** **҉͏͏͎** **̞̗̪̗̫̫h** **͉** **̭̳̬̠** **͓** **̠̜̬e** **͢͢** **̥** **͔** **̩ ̶̷** **͖͍** **̩** **͙͕** **̲d̀̕** **͙͢** **̜** **͙͖** **̝̙** **͎** **̖e̳̖** **͖** **̺̬̼c** **͍** **̰̘̙ͅ** **͕** **i** **͘͘** **̮̫̘̫̠s** **͇** **̙̜̯** **͙** **i** **͞҉͇** **̖** **͕** **ò** **͎** **̳̫̹̜̙̟n̶** **͍͚** **̱** **͇** **̮̜s** **͜҉** **̠̞̖̰̞̜ ̸̪̦̭́** **͔͕͖** **̪̪you** **҉** **̝̰** **͈** **̶̵̠** **͎** **̮̗̱̮̼ͅm** **͝͏** **̬̯** **͇** **a̴** **͞** **̣̙k̕** **͈͍͈** **̰** **͔** **e** **͟** **̜̗̫̯̜̀** **͖͎** **͏҉** **̴̙w** **͜͡** **́** **͉** **̰̫** **͔** **i** **͘** **̴̧̲** **͕** **̳̱l** **͏͏** **̩̪̪̪** **͙** **l̷̕** **͕͔** **͜͡** **̮̱̥̹̙̼**

 _ **u**_ _ **͎͇**_ _ **̙̗**_ _ **͙**_ _ **l̨̲t̲̀**_ _ **͇**_ _ **i**_ _ **͝**_ _ **̲̬**_ _ **͎**_ _ **m̶**_ _ **͙͜͢**_ _ **̜**_ _ **͔**_ _ **a̜**_ _ **͓͚**_ _ **̪t**_ _ **͝͡**_ _ **̗**_ _ **͚͈͉**_ _ **e̲ļ**_ _ **͕**_ _ **̲̩̯**_ _ **͇**_ _ **̺**_ _ **͚**_ _ **y**_ _ **͚**_ _ **̮̝**_ _ **͕**_ _**͡**_ _ **̷̕**_ _ **͕͈**_ _ **d**_ _ **͕͢**_ _ **̦̦̳e**_ _ **͎**_ _ **̹ć**_ _ **͜**_ _ **̣̯̟̭i**_ _ **͞**_ _ **̨̨**_ _ **͓**_ _ **ͅ**_ _ **͕**_ _ **̦̻d̵̻é̛**_ _ **͓͠**_ _ **̬̩̘̲̗**_ _ **͍͎**_ _ **̶**_ _ **͡**_ _ **̰̮**_ _ **͕**_ _ **̣̠̬ͅy**_ _ **͢**_ _ **̷**_ _ **͏**_ _ **̼̙̫̮ò̤̣̝̜̙u**_ _ **͟**_ _ **̡**_ _ **͓**_ _ **̤̪̞̮̯̻r**_ _ **͠**_ _ **̩̟̯̗̯̰ͅ ̀**_ _ **͘͞**_ _ **̥̭̫**_ _ **͕**_ _ **̟**_ _ **͕͉**_ _ **f̨**_ _ **͡**_ _ **̼̗̦**_ _ **͇**_ _ **̫̰ u**_ _ **͔**_ _ **̤̖ t**_ _ **͖͞**_ _ **u̴̩̻̯̼̤̻̳̠ ŗ**_ _ **͘**_ _ **̜**_ _ **͚**_ _ **̥ e**_ _ **͝**_ _ **̶̮̳̠ .**_ _ **͟**_ _ **̞̩̗̬̼̰ͅ**_ _ **͙**_ _ **̜**_

 _ **A̱**_ _ **͔͉**_ _ **̙n̷̖̜̥n̷̖̜̥a**_ _ **͍**_ _ **̗̙̻**_ _ **͎͎͎**_ _ **̗!**_

* * *

Anna jolted awake, eyes snapping open at the sound of her name. But it was too bright. It hurt to look. Her eyes fluttered as they adjusted to the unfamiliar light peeking through the window, but the world was strange. In place of what should have been vibrant hues were muted colors and washed out monochromes, like it had all bled away. Anna seized at a sudden pain in the back of her skull, and her hands flew up to cover her eyes.

"Take your time. It'll be okay, Anna."

She felt a comforting presence at her side pull her close. Slowly, the miasma of her dream faded. Her nausea passed, and the gentle rocking of the ship reminded her of the present. She was no longer standing at the top of a dying world, but on a voyage with Elsa. Anna pulled her hands down, and the world reorganized itself into what it should be. It was a bright, beautiful day, blue skies and golden light.

Not grey skies and white light.

"It'll be okay," Elsa said again, smiling at Anna and brushing her hair back.

"I-I was dreaming about…" Anna didn't know how to finish that sentence. She shook her head, mouth dry. Had she been dreaming about him, Edmund? Or had it been her, Anna?

"It's all in the past," Elsa said. She pointed out the window, and Anna saw that they were sailing towards the golden sun. "Look. We can just…leave it all behind us."

"…Yeah." Anna turned away, content to close her eyes and settle into the gentle darkness. Sometimes the light still hurt her eyes. Sometimes she preferred not to look. "It's all in the past."

All in the past.

 _But it's still_ my _past._


	2. Dystopic Paradise

**a/n:** Revisions: Timeline change, along with elaboration on Elsa/Anna's journeys; elaboration on Hans's rule.

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Dystopic Paradise**

It had been eight months.

Eight months of traveling on the open seas, but the thrill was still there. Subdued from the exhilaration she might have felt once, but Anna enjoyed traveling. Seeing the vast ocean stretch out into the horizon reminded her just how wide the world was and just how little she had seen of it. There was an endless expanse of blue and a whole world of places and people. In Arendelle, the Southern Isles, she had always dreamed of leaving the walled gates behind. Now she was finally making that dream come true.

They had traveled slowly at first, staying for days or even weeks wherever they landed. Their journey began with the other regions of the Southern Isles and its territorial islands—Hjerte Oer, or Heartland, was the capital region where the Southern Isles Castle was situated; but there were three other regions, Alabur to the north, Odense to the south, and Aaros between them, along with the rim of islands surrounding them all. Many of these areas, Elsa explained, had once been apportioned as fiefs to members of nobility, but she had recalled them all. Small towns on the outreaches of the kingdom – the fishing industries and coal mines and manufacturing plants farthest from the castle – had been spared from the winter of her rule. They had supplied the Southern Isles, in part, with the supplies they needed. In turn, they were protected and traded other goods that Elsa seized from the conquered.

"I never really realized how much you had to do," Anna said. "How much area and how many people you had to manage, I mean. I remember you liked to micromanage."

"Luckily I didn't need to sleep," Elsa said. "It was…difficult, though. At least Saul had been willing to hand over his lands. When Fabian and Cyrus were making a ruckus, he helped me get them in line, too."

"Oh. Well, that was nice of him."

"But he also worked with Alvard to institute slavery when he realized we needed resources." Anna had retorted at this, and Elsa quickly added, "I know it was wrong. It was never my intention, and I talked to him about stopping it, but I…didn't have a choice. Alvard had captured people already, and I couldn't return them without looking weak. Also…our people might not have survived, otherwise. It was wrong, but…it worked. I can only make amends now. Once I figure out how. I will, Anna."

Anna had been troubled by this, but she remembered that Elsa had not enslaved anyone from Arendelle. She had at least stopped any further depravity.

 _And I'm not blameless either, I have no right to say anything—_

They had disguised themselves as commoners and visited the islands, even lived there for a week while posing as ordinary travelers. Not an outright lie. None were any wiser that the former queen was among them, and so they had toured the modest village, seen how the people lived. It was a charming simplicity. Not in any condescending way, Anna hoped, but she admired the slow pace of life in the agricultural scene. It was hard work, of course, but…

"We don't have to give tribute, or have any 'required yield' no more," explained an elderly man, while he and Anna sat under the shade and watched his son tilling the land. Elsa had volunteered to help the man's wife with sun-drying their crops. "Haven't needed to since the Duke had to turn all this back to the Queen. Crazy how she's just gone, huh? I still don't know about this new king. Not sure about 'im."

Then he had told her about the relative independence they'd enjoyed while Elsa was in power, freed from serfdom to the landed gentry and given actual autonomy to trade, and how they feared that the old status quo would now return. Hans's rule was still uncertain, he said. Some people were already talking about pulling away from the Southern Isles entirely, before he could impose anything on them.

"Not me," said the man. "It's my country, and I ain't leaving. Most of us think that too, y'know, but they're scared. Doesn't help that this King Hans has been giving things left and right to other kingdoms."

What _was_ a country, Anna had wondered. Lines on a map. It was surprising that this man had spoken with such fervor about remaining with the Southern Isles, when from what she could see, this community was a world apart. How did people decide where they belonged?

"Thanks for telling me all this," Anna said.

"Nah, my own son won't listen to me babble," said the man, and he nodded at her wheelchair with a sympathetic smile. "You're a good kid. Hopefully you'll be getting outta that thing soon."

"…Hopefully."

That hadn't happened.

Next, they had visited Arendelle for a time. Anna knew that her father would be happy to see her again, but to her surprise, Elsa had been the one to urge her to visit home. Even more surprising was how well Agdar and Elsa seemed to get along. Anna had expected the same tense atmosphere as last time – and the uncomfortable memory of the failed assassination had made her wary of the two even seeing each other at all. But Elsa had been civil, even respectful, and Anna wondered just when and how Pappa had earned her recognition. Pappa had been friendly and told Elsa how grateful he was that she was taking Anna to see the world, and then they'd talked about shipbuilding for a good half hour.

It was bizarre.

Anna had thus passed her twentieth birthday at home, surrounded by the familiarity of Gerda's laugh, Pappa's smile, and for a moment it was like nothing had changed. Anna had been presented with a cake while Gerda sang, Pappa clapped along to the beat, and the only difference from the previous years was that Elsa was there now to help her blow out all the candles. It'd been fun. Elsa had taken her to the marketplace, returned to the same shops they had visited before, and an old shopkeeper had actually recognized Elsa. Not for anything she had done as queen, but because the last time they were here, Elsa had made a show of her swordplay and attracted a crowd to purchase toy swords. Elsa had actually seemed _embarrassed_ , and Anna couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed as hard as at the sight of Elsa trying to explain to the shopkeeper that she didn't need a job as his assistant _._

What a difference from Queen Elsa, Anna thought.

Hardly anyone talked of Queen Elsa anymore.

News of Elsa's death had already spread. It was a rumor perpetuated by the kings of the greater nations, allowing the world, still finding its bearings in the wake of an apocalypse, some security as it recovered. Elsa had suggested it, and what else could any of those kings do but take her word that she meant no more harm? Her powers were stronger than they had ever been. Elsa was beyond their mortal means.

But Anna knew they were more wary of _her_.

Everyone had seen a glimpse of her face. Not just those at the battlefield, but everyone. Across the world, everyone had been touched by the horror of her magic, had seen the abomination that would freeze all time and existence. Most would see it as a dream, but those who had been there at that very scene? All of them knew. Elsa was now their only means of restraining _Anna_. In case she ever went mad. Again. Just thinking about it made Anna want to laugh, or maybe to cry, and when she was alone with her thoughts she had to fight to keep the strangled noise trapped in her throat. She, the woman confined to a wheelchair, limbs too weak to support her own weight, was _dangerous._

It would be fine.

It would be fine.

It would be fine, fine, fine, fine…

And so as they drifted from place to place, seeing new sights, visiting old ones, Anna held on to the mantra that one day things would really be fine. Be better than fine.

"Hey," Elsa said. "What are you thinking about?"

Anna looked up to see her smiling face, almost freed of the tension that had marred her features for so long. "I'm glad we're both here," she said. "I'm glad that we can be together."

It was true. They were both here, and that was what mattered. She didn't even know where their travels had taken them this time, but they were away from their troubles, away from the rest of the world. Anna looked up again to the starlit sky, admiring the lights that dusted across the night canvas. Each one, shining bright, was another of her hopes. Nothing obscured the view. Not the castle of the Southern Isles. Not the stormclouds of terrible magic. Out here, they could finally just…be. They were free to be Elsa and Anna. Here was their escape.

She just needed to stop thinking. Unravel her tangled thoughts and try to remember hope. Some days despair was a very real possibility, a monster lurking in the shadows of her thoughts, just waiting to swallow her whole if she lingered for even a second. But she could handle it.

"I'm glad that you're here with me," Anna continued.

"I'm going to be here as long as you want me," Elsa said. She sat down beside her on the beach, lower to the ground because of the wheelchair; but Elsa reached up to take her hand, and Anna was grateful.

There they sat, fingers intertwined, watching the waves lap at the shore. Water darkened the sands before pulling away, leaving behind a bubbling coat of white foam. Again and again the waves rolled in, and Anna was so engrossed that her attention only returned when Elsa squeezed her hand. It was still a surprise to feel warmth. Elsa didn't feel cold anymore. Her skin was warm now, like an autumn day.

"Look," Elsa said, pointing behind them.

Anna turned in her seat and broke into a smile. Sea turtles! Popping out of depressions in the sand, a troupe of newly hatched baby turtles were marching their way toward the freedom of the sea. They waddled across the sand on their tiny legs, warbling when they bumped into one another. Anna cheered them on as Elsa shook her head, laughing.

"Oh, that one's kind of small…" Anna craned her neck to watch the straggler struggling to keep pace with the rest. It was still only halfway across the beach by the time some of its larger kin was reaching the water. "Hey, you can do it, little guy. Don't give up yet!"

Despite Anna's encouragement, the turtle had slowed its advance. It looked rather forlorn, inching its way towards the ocean alone, and Anna imagined that it must have felt so sad…

"Do you want to just keep that one?" Elsa asked.

"No, I think he'd be happier out there…where he belongs," Anna said, biting her lip in worry. "But do you think you could help him out? Please, Elsa?"

"I'll have to think about it."

"Elsaaaaaa." Anna took Elsa's hand in both of her own, but Elsa steadfastly avoided her gaze, looking up at the sky and moving away whenever she tried to follow. "It'll only take you a second!"

"Fine, but I'll need some incentive."

Elsa suddenly stood, and Anna saw the corner of her lips twitching up, saw the smile in her eyes. She might have been more open with her expressions now, but she _still_ smiled brightest in her eyes. Anna breathed out a laugh when Elsa kissed her cheek, absentmindedly waving one hand. Immediately, the baby turtle slid across an arc of ice and catapulted into the ocean. Anna swore she heard an indignant squawk just before the heavy splash as he landed.

"Couldn't give him an easy landing?" Anna asked.

"I think the water looks comfortable enough," Elsa said, kissing her one more time and laughing quietly. Anna squirmed in her seat, snickering, when she felt Elsa's laughs fan over her ear.

"Okay! I'll thank you on behalf of the turtle," Anna said. "You've done something good today. Karma, right? I'm sure this'll come back around."

"Mmm." Elsa looked outward again, towards the ocean. "I was serious when I said the water looks comfortable. If you want, we could go in for a little while. I'll try not to freeze it."

Anna leaned forward, opening her mouth to say yes, of course she wanted to—but an instant before she could answer she slumped back, limbs slackening. All she could do was mutely shook her head. Caught up in the exhilaration of the moment, she had almost forgotten that she was trapped in her wheelchair. She only remembered once she tried to rise and found herself too weak, useless as always. She'd even _tried_ to walk again. She just couldn't. Eight months, and she was still…

"You have fun," Anna said, clutching at the skirt of her dress.

"…Anna."

Elsa had lost her smile, and Anna only felt worse. She _had_ to ruin things. They could be having so much fun, but she was— _damaged._ She could still feel the cold caress of despair, the monster inside clawing its way towards freedom, promising her sweet oblivion if she would just let go, let go as she had once before and strike at the world with all her hate and rage and frustration. Maybe in time she would learn to feel things like joy and satisfaction again too. It was so tempting.

"I'm sorry."

But she would bottle it all up this time, so that the monster never saw the light of day.

"Don't apologize," Elsa said, kneeling down so that their eyes met. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"Okay," Anna said, nodding, but she only half-believed Elsa. It was still more than how much she believed in herself. "But you go ahead, all right? Have fun without me. I'll be okay watching from here."

"I have the most fun with you." Elsa tilted her head, lips curving into another smile. "If you insist that I go ahead, then I'm going to have to take you with me."

Anna couldn't even react before Elsa scooped her up out of her seat, carrying her bridal style, and all she managed was a squeak – much like the baby turtle – as Elsa headed towards the water. She looped her arms around Elsa's neck, burying her face in the crook of her shoulder.

"You better not drop me," Anna mumbled, but she was smiling and she guessed that Elsa knew.

"Drop is somewhat different from toss, so…" Anna yelped and hung on even tighter, only poking her head out when she heard Elsa laughing. "Don't worry, I won't drop you. I promise."

With that, Elsa began to dance across the beach, feet moving in a pattern that Anna recognized – with a dull pang that she repressed – as one of the forms she used in swordfighting. It was impossible to hold onto her foul mood, though, and Anna allowed herself to indulge in this moment. Elsa was leaping over the waves, jostling her a little bit, but Anna _liked_ the feeling, and she couldn't help but laugh whenever water splashed up and nearly touched her ankles.

"You're in an awfully good mood," Anna said, shimmying up as Elsa retreated from the deeper waters.

"Like you said…" Elsa came to a stop at the edge of the shore and sat down on the sand, settling Anna in between her legs. "We're here together. Why wouldn't I be in a good mood?"

Anna leaned back and fell against Elsa, smiling contentedly. "You're right. I'm sorry, I keep slipping back and forth and I must be giving you whiplash. I'm just…I want you to be happy."

"I've never been happier than now."

Anna hummed. "Where are we headed tomorrow?"

"Actually, this island belongs to Corona," Elsa said. "We'll be there tomorrow, and the Lantern Festival should be soon. We can get some rest and stay for that."

"Sounds fantastic." Anna wrinkled her nose when another wave came in, brushing over her feet and the bottom of her dress. It was nice and cool, but… "Aren't your pants going to be really dirty? You're not wearing an ice dress anymore, you know. Can't just magic it clean."

"It's worth it."

Anna smiled when Elsa wrapped her arms around her waist, chin settling on her shoulder. "It'd be nice to just…stay like this." Stay here where they were alone, in this moment when her nightmares did not haunt her thoughts. If only they could really stay like this forever. If only _she_ could be like this forever.

Elsa pointed to the sky and began naming the stars and constellations, but Anna was only half-listening, lulled to sleep by her warmth and the gentle lapping of the waves. Hanging overhead to the north was Polaris, the North Star…

"Oi! Are you two from Corona?"

Anna jolted awake. Running towards them was a middle-aged man, red-faced from exertion, but there was obvious, desperate hope on his face—the sort of wild abandon that was as much a danger as a boon. Elsa rose, carrying Anna back to her wheelchair, and turned to face the man just as he came to a halt. Fighting back his gasps, he struggled to form words.

"What's the problem?" Elsa asked.

"A-Are you from Corona? Please, tell me you're from Corona, I need your help—"

"We're just passing through," Elsa said. But even she must have felt pity when the man paled, his hopeful expression seeming to crumble like sand slipping through his fingers. For a moment, Anna thought this hardy, square-built man might snap and burst into tears of desperation. Elsa added, "Though we're headed there soon. Now tell me. What's the problem?"

"Then, please, come this way—!" When the man reached out, Elsa deftly avoided his touch. Still panicked, he didn't seem to notice. "Please, I need you to tell the King about what's going on!"

Elsa frowned, scrutinizing the man for a moment, but Anna could see no deceit. He seemed genuinely desperate. At last, Elsa nodded. Before leaving, she turned to Anna. "Do you want to stay at the ship?"

"No, I want to come along," Anna said.

"Are you…sure? It might not be safe."

"Yes," Anna insisted. "And with you there, how much danger can I be in?"

Immediately the man exclaimed, "It won't be dangerous at all! But I think – I think another witness may be helpful. So please, hurry. We need aid urgently, please."

For whatever reason, Elsa still seemed reluctant, though she tried to hide it. For a terse moment they were both silent, the air between them pregnant with discarded excuses and unasked questions; until Elsa appeared unable to come up with any reason why she should stay behind, and she nodded. Anna chose not to question Elsa about her reaction for now. It could wait for a later time.

Following the man – who introduced himself as Manley – they went farther inland. It really must have been a quiet island, Anna thought. All the paths were barely cleared of roots and vines, leaving an abundance of overgrowth that could have impeded her wheelchair. Luckily, Elsa guided her along, and Manley went ahead enough that he would not have noticed the small uses of magic to smooth the path.

"People of the village have been falling ill," Manley said quickly. "Nobody knows how to cure it."

"What type of illness?"

"I…" Manley paused and turned his head to look back at them, and Anna was struck by how aged he looked, how horrified. There were deep bags under his red-rimmed eyes that she suspected had not been there before. "It might be easier for you to see. I can't describe it well enough to do it justice."

"I cannot help you cure these people," Elsa said.

"I-I understand. I just need you to report to the king, I-I need you to see what it's like, and—"

"That I can do," Elsa said. "A friend of mine was an accomplished doctor. I watched him work often enough that accurate diagnosis is within my ability."

They arrived in the village soon afterward. It was preceded by a simple wooden gate that spoke of little wariness, little want to impress others. Instead, it was designed to be welcoming, humble—Anna took an immediate liking to this village already. Inside, the close-knit homes, modest and similarly without the fences and metal that were to ward off others, suggested the same sense of neighborly community.

But there was _something_ wrong here. For all that the environment seemed welcoming, there was almost no one outside. Gardens went untended. Stores went unmanned. Those few people outside walked hunched and bowed, their steps hurried as though they feared being outside, feared being around others. It reminded Anna painfully of what the Southern Isles had been.

"Now that we're here, would you feel comfortable sharing more without being cryptic?" Elsa asked.

"We call it…serglige, wasting sickness," Manley said. Leading them to one of the nearby homes, larger than the rest, he raised his hand to knock on the door, and then paused. Closed his eyes, took a deep breath. "Please. It's…hard to see. But I need someone to know." Then he knocked and opened the door.

Inside were rows and rows of beds filled with people, so many that they had almost been piled together like a mausoleum of corpses. Just the sheer amount of people crowded into this space made the air hang thick with a cloying heat; Anna felt herself gag from the stench of disease. But they weren't just piled there. No, many of them were _restrained_ , hands bound with rope that tied them down to the beds. Some of the patients were lying prone, breathing shallow breaths; but where some were almost deathlike in their stillness, others were thrashing, snarling with the ferocity of a wounded animal as they fought against their restraints.

"Why are you keeping them all here?" Elsa asked harshly.

"It's not contagious," Manley said, as though afraid they would flee. "But…there wasn't a choice. If we let them free, they…they hurt themselves, they hurt others. We had to keep them all here! We…had to."

Even from a distance, Anna could see why they had named it _wasting sickness._ Each and every one of the afflicted was so _reduced_ , the architecture of their skeletons visible through the shirts hanging loose on their emaciated frame. Their skin hung loose on their bones. Their hair fell limp and brittle. But worse was that all of them had their eyes wide open. Bulging and turning with frantic movement, but unseeing, hollow, as though their souls had departed and left behind a husk to slowly waste away.

Elsa left her by the door, and Anna watched as she approached the nearest patient. Manley lingered close to the door as well, gripping it like a lifeline as he cast pained glances towards the sick.

"Their bodies are cold, like corpses," Elsa said, bending to press two fingers to one person's neck, then rising and repeating with another. "But they have an accelerated pulse. Dilated eyes. Inflammation. And…these are bruises…on their body? Is it self-inflicted?"

"Th-They simply appear," Manley said. "When they could still manage speech, they mentioned…they mentioned that their bodies would hurt. Because of wounds they suffered during…nightmares."

"Can you hear me?" Elsa helped one man sit up, and Anna saw that his hands were shaking as they clutched thin blankets close to his body. "Do you understand what I'm—?"

"R-Reli…qu…my…h…heart…"

Anna widened her eyes. Had her heart just seized at those words? Her throat closed. Her mouth dried. Something lodged in her heart like broken shards of glass. Not just those words were familiar, but that tone, that deadened voice, like there was nothing left save for the abyss…

 _Morality has no—_

 _Life has no—_

 _Nothing has meaning._

"What was that?" Elsa asked.

Without response, the man bolted upright, as though his spine had simply snapped back. Elsa threw herself backward just in time to avoid his flailing arms, his hands curled into claws. His mouth stretched open like a snake unhinging its jaw, and from his previously raspy voice erupted a high-pitched screech.

It was just like…like…

 _Reliquary._

Anna snapped out of her thoughts and wheeled forward.

As soon as she came close, it happened.

That man stopped his howls, reduced to keening and mewling, but he was joined by all the other patients. They formed a cacophony of inhuman moans, eyes glowing with a feverish light, bones cracking with grotesque noise as they moved. What they did next shocked even Elsa to inaction, and Anna froze. All of them, men and women and child, jointly crawled forward, prostrated, heads bowed, and _groveled_ before Anna.

"Queen…Queen …Anna…"

It was happening again, again, again, again

again

again

again—

 _Queen Anna._

* * *

"Ever think about just abdicating?"

Hans answered with a snort, stabbing into his meal with a great deal more ferocity than warranted, but one look at the scandalized expression on Alek's face and he broke into soft laughter. Stressful day it may have been, but taking meals with his family was…new, and Hans enjoyed this time of day most of all. With part of his family, anyway. Not everyone was in attendance – Cyrus and Rafael in particular almost never joined them, and Stefan, engrossed in his work, often forgot to take his meals until midnight. It was a far cry from the thirteen of them, plus Markus and Elsa, but the vacuum of numbers was filled by warmth that had been absent before. Hans was glad for this time to relax.

"I'm serious," Alek said, scowling as he pointed at him with his fork and its forlorn, speared piece of chicken; Hans looked down to avoid laughing again and provoking him more. "I don't know how you stay calm. Oliver stopped me, but I was about to hold some of those stupid bureaucrats at swordpoint."

"Well, Hans didn't exactly say no," Oliver pointed out.

"I admit to nothing."

Though frankly, Hans _did_ occasionally contemplate giving up the throne and moving to a little island in the middle of nowhere, where he would never be disturbed again. Back when he longed to rule, he had never imagined there would be so much red tape involved; Markus and Elsa never had to deal with politicians, but Hans couldn't exactly emulate their example and dissolve the government.

"Even if we don't always agree," Hans said, "I still appreciate the input of our court officials. Even if they _are_ useless, conniving scum." Even if many of them, disdainful of his youth, tried to bully him into returning their old estates, their old lordships.

"Give it time," Oliver said. "What you need now is patience to endure."

"I'm not sure I can endure anymore."

"Endure until there's no enduring anymore, and then endure all over again." Oliver smiled sardonically, and not for the first time, Hans realized that behind his gentle face, his brother hid a brilliant mind. "Being king means learning to bide your time, Hans. You'll be able to control them soon enough. Once the dust settles, they'll fall into line."

On that note their meal continued in relative silence, leaving Hans to let his mind wander as he so often did now.

They were recovering, but they were still a defeated nation. With Elsa in the back of their minds, none of the other kingdoms dared to make outright unreasonable demands, and King Agdar was helpful, too, in aiding with negotiations as the Southern Isles regained its footing; but at the end of the day, they still had to make reparations for the harm they had caused. It hurt to know he was responsible for ceding lands his ancestors shed blood and sweat to conquer, but Hans had done his best to negotiate favorable terms. They would rebuild the Southern Isles on a solid foundation, one free of the stigma of its past.

It was just…taking longer, and draining more resources, than the people might have liked.

Not to mention that many parts of the kingdom were now used to being largely left to their own devices, their own self-formed governments. Hans needed the old dukes and barons to maintain order, but reinstalling them was never well received. When one city outright refused to allow his officials to collect tax for reparations, Hans had, for a moment, raged at Elsa. For her incompetence. For allowing these people freedom enough to develop this rebellious, treacherous attitude. But once that moment passed, Hans realized how much his thoughts had resonated with Markus. His father would have led an army into that town and broken them to his will, and Hans could not honestly say that, in the throes of his rage, the thought hadn't crossed his mind. It was so tempting that it frightened him to the depths of his soul, and he'd realized just how much of Markus was in him, in perhaps all of his siblings.

Even Elsa.

Especially Elsa.

Maybe she had struggled with the thought, too. Hans wondered if she had kept her distance out of fear of what she might do, but her approach wouldn't work for him. Elsa had magic to secure security. Elsa hadn't needed to deal with kingdoms circling like vultures waiting to take their slice of the Southern Isles, while her own people refused to heed her orders and plotted secession, while greedy dukes and barons sought to consolidate their power at her expense. Chaos, inside and out.

"Don't think about work while you're eating," Alek said.

"Before I forget – I've heard that there's been growing unrest, especially in the outer districts," Hans said. "Mostly cold leads, but I'd like you to look into it."

Alek looked ready to chide him, but he nodded. "I'll find out more."

"It's my hope that this is only a minor movement, but…" Hans frowned, feeling the stirrings of a recurring headache. "Be careful, please. Our family may not be very well-liked at the moment."

"Elsa left behind a fine mess for us to deal with," Alek said.

Of course. Nobody wanted to pay reparations when, in their minds, Elsa was responsible for everything. And they weren't entirely wrong, but…

"We _did_ all benefit from her conquest," Oliver said. "I understand why the people might feel wronged, but we can't pretend that we weren't provided for while Elsa ruled. It's just hard adjusting to a functional economy again, rather than…whatever we had. We might have been a first there, really."

"What a way to make the history books," Alek said.

Hopefully they would be remembered for something a little more benign. Hans pushed the contents of his plate around, not quite having appetite enough to eat. Not because of the simple fare, less than what used to be served – Hans insisted that they were not to dine extravagantly during these hard times, much to Cyrus' displeasure – but because of worry. Many nights now, he could only manage a few bites.

Even when Oliver and Alek had finished, Hans was still lingering over his meal.

"Eat," Alek said, drumming his fingers against the edge of the table. "Don't think I haven't noticed. I can wait here all night, Hans. You're going to finish that and get some rest."

"Why does that sound threatening…?" Hans chuckled under his breath. "I'll be fine. You two can leave first, I promise I'll eat."

Alek opened his mouth, probably to retort, but Oliver grabbed his arm. When Alek glanced back, he shook his head. "Let's give Hans some space. I don't think he can eat comfortably with us just sitting here watching him." With that, Oliver let go. Giving Hans one final nod, he left the dining room.

"I'll be fine," Hans said again. "I think I'd best speak with Elsa, anyway."

Alek still looked cross, but he nodded. "Fine, but don't think I won't check with the servants afterward."

Hans smiled. "Do you want to stay for this, though?"

Each time before he contacted Elsa, he would ask Alek that same question. Each time Alek would pause, indecisive as he almost never was, and today was no exception. His frown grew deeper with every second. Only when the table squeaked under his grip did he break out of his stupor, and at last, Alek shook his head.

"Like I'd want to be around for Elsa."

Pushing out his seat, Alek left without a second glance. Hans saw his clenched fist anyway, and part of him wished Alek had stayed this time. But it was his decision to make. Maybe eventually he would.

Regardless, there was the task at hand. Hans withdrew the crystal of ice that Elsa had left behind, once again admiring its intricate design. It was small, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, but possessed the same helical pattern that so often decorated her work. Really, though, its form was only an orb of ice with a spiraling crystal attached. Most importantly, it allowed them to communicate.

"It feels rather silly, talking into this thing," Hans said, clearing his throat. "If maybe I could see you, or otherwise know that you're listening, or even there…"

Long seconds passed, and Hans sighed. On second thought, he was glad that Alek hadn't taken him up on his offer and stayed. He must have looked like a madman just sitting there talking to himself.

"I thought you would be used to talking to yourself. Perhaps scheming in the dead of night about how best to steal the throne."

Elsa's voice filtered through the crystal, muffled but clearly recognizable, and the ice glowed white to let him know of her presence on the other end. It had never done so before, and he wondered, vaguely, whether Elsa had refrained because she knew how awkward it must have been for him. Surely not. But, still, there was that niggling suspicion…

"No, I wouldn't run the risk of being overheard," Hans said. "What an amateur mistake. I'm offended you would even accuse me of such."

There was some silence on the other end before Elsa finally said, "I suppose." Hans had to raise an eyebrow. Maybe it was his imagination, but she sounded amused. "Well, what's the situation?"

"Nothing concrete, but I asked Alek to look into it," Hans said. "There have been more reports, though. Rumors about an uprising, and even more disturbing than that…some sort of religious movement."

Worshipping Anna.

"We encountered something similar here," Elsa said. "An entire village, stricken by madness that the residents call _serglige_. They were barely coherent, but as soon as they saw Anna, they fell to their knees and groveled at her feet. We…left after that."

It was the best course of action. Without knowing the root cause, there wasn't much they could do. Staying would only have caused more of a disturbance. But Anna...Anna would have wanted to stay. She would have wanted to help. He could only hope that she hadn't been too disturbed by the reminder of what had happened. How much their family owed Anna, Hans thought, his lip curling with distaste. They had all but destroyed the innocent girl who had come here almost two years ago.

"Is Anna all right?"

"Fine," Elsa said, brusque tone reminding him of the queen she had been. "Anna's asleep right now. We'll be arriving in Corona tomorrow to inform them of the situation."

"I see."

"Sending Alek may not be the best course of action," Elsa said. Even without seeing her face, he could hear the imperious glare in her voice. "You know that he's been vulnerable before. Can you even be sure that he's stable enough right now?"

"With all due respect," Hans retorted, voicing becoming just as steeled, "I know him best, and I believe that my brother is more than capable. I _trust_ him."

Silence.

"…Hmm." Perhaps fortunately, Elsa did not sound irritated by his boldness. If anything, the edge in her voice had left. "I'll defer to your judgment, then, but whatever happens will be your responsibility."

Not long ago, when he hated the mere thought of her existence, he would never have dared speak to Elsa like that. And now, there would always be gratitude on his part for what she had done to rouse him from his self-pity. But Hans would not tolerate her doubting Alek. Truth be told, Hans _did_ worry about him too. Alek had never spoken to Anna before she left, not even once, and he did his best to avoid any possible communication now, even refusing to stay for these talks because Anna might be on the other end—Hans didn't know whether Alek felt angry or guilty, or whether even _Alek_ knew what he felt; but Alek knew how to handle himself. Emotionally weak, his brother was not.

"I've learned how to take responsibility," Hans said.

"Notify me immediately when Alek learns something," Elsa said, and the crystal dimmed.

Hans took the dismissal for what it was and stowed the crystal away. His meal had gone cold, but he had never intended to finish it. Slumping in his seat, he allowed his head to fall back and rubbed his closed eyes, breathing a heavy sigh at the thought of another restless night.

No rest for the weary.


	3. Light Invisible

**a/n:** Revisions: Technical edits; introduction of Rapunzel and Judus.

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Light Invisible**

Dawn illuminated the streets, casting an iridescent sheen on an already glorious kingdom.

Corona was known as the Land of the Sun, and for good reason—Anna had never seen a place as vibrant.

They had arrived early in the morning, early enough to see the dawn set the blue waters ablaze with an orange hue. As light stretched outward to illuminate the colossal clock tower set in the center of town, its glorious panels of blue glass glittered like diamonds. Even Elsa seemed impressed.

Across town was an explosion of colors. Rather than the grey cobblestone used in Arendelle, the streets of Corona were paved with pale yellow travertine that caught the light and glowed almost gold. Lamp posts stood on the corner of every street, solid black metal buffed and shined to flawlessness. Homes alternated between shades of peach and yellow, the many window ledges decorated with plant-life, bushes of pink roses sitting neatly on the sill and carefully trimmed vines framing the woodwork.

If only she could enjoy the sights.

Anna had _almost_ managed to convince herself that all was well, that there would be no repercussions for what she did, but reality had come rushing back the previous night. If she were the only one suffering, then that was only what she deserved. But those dying people back in the village? All of them, good, innocent people, dragged into spiraling madness through an echo of her own.

Even sleep had been no reprieve from reality. She could only sleep for an hour or two at a time before waking inexplicably with miserable feelings, dried tears stuck to her cheeks. If she dreamed at all, she could not remember them. It was for the best. She had no desire to see what would most likely be memories, because nothing else her imagination could conjure would be even half as horrifying.

Elsa seemed to sense her mood and said nothing as they made their way to the castle.

As they left the docks and passed through the gates leading to town, Anna noticed a mural painted on an arched wall. It couldn't be missed. Anyone who came in would have to pass by this wall. On it was painted a little girl who couldn't be older than four or five years old, with wide, brown eyes and golden hair, smiling as she looked towards the sun. Anna wondered why this memorial was here. Flowers had been placed at the base of the wall, and she could venture an unfortunate guess.

Sometimes the world was cruel.

Corona Castle was similar enough to Arendelle Castle, positioned strategically on the cliffside and overlooking the rest of the kingdom. Its courtyard, though, was less of a court and more of a yard. Only one narrow path had been paved, leading straight to the castle, while either side boasted vast lawns of well-trimmed grass. Great trees circled the border of the walls, thick trunks evidence of their longevity, and Anna suspected they had lived, and would live, for much longer than either her or Elsa. Their branches bore full leaves and the fruits of spring, casting shadows that swayed with every pass of the wind. Anna rather wanted to sit down under one. Maybe it would be relaxing.

But maybe that was for another time.

Elsa passed through the open gates, impressing Anna by somehow managing to be imposing even while pushing her and her wheelchair along. Of course, they weren't stopped. Awestruck guards stood ramrod-straight, hardly daring to draw breath, as Elsa passed by without sparing them more than a glance; Anna sent them apologetic nods, but judging from their tight-lipped expressions, she did nothing to soothe their nerves.

"I know the way already," Elsa said, when one particularly brave guard offered to lead her inside. Anna almost winced, but Elsa had never been one for tact.

"Could you please tell the king and queen that we're here for an audience?" Anna asked, and the guard vanished to some unknown reach of the castle.

Once inside, Elsa demonstrated that she indeed knew the castle well, leading them through the halls without stopping for even a moment of consideration. On the way, Anna noticed paintings of the royal family, both past and present. There was a strong family resemblance there, but what interested her was one particular portrait—the same blonde girl from the mural before. She was holding hands with another girl, brunette and around the same age. Sisters, maybe. They didn't look too alike. On the left, the blonde had a vivid lightness to her complexion; but on the right, the brunette child was frail, her face thin and her smile weak. It looked as though her sister was half-carrying her where they stood.

"And now we wait," Elsa murmured.

Anna hadn't even realized they arrived at the throne room. Either she had been too distracted, or Elsa moved too quickly. Perhaps both. Anna remembered this side of Elsa, the Elsa that became fixated on her goal and worked towards it without considering anything else. "Weren't you only here once?"

"Last time I was here, I still had perfect recall," Elsa said. "Before, I could have drawn a map of this place blindfolded, but admittedly, some of the memories are a little…foggier now."

"Do you…miss it? Having eidetic memory, like back then?"

"It's a small sacrifice for everything else." Elsa shrugged, but the motion wasn't as nonchalant as she tried to make it. "I can give up some memorized details of the past, for being able to feel the present."

Anna nodded, unsure how to respond, but she was saved from it regardless. Just then, the doors opened, and Elsa shifted her attention to the arrival of the King and Queen of Corona.

"Friderich, Zuzanna," Elsa said.

Neither of them looked too happy, but apparently not because, as anyone might have assumed, Elsa was there. Rather than being angry or even suspicious about Elsa, they looked…weary. Much more _aged_ than simple discontent. Friderich must have been a tall, imposing figure at one point, but now he walked slowly, with a slight hunch, as though time had set in his bones and he had been trodden upon by some invisible weight. Zuzanna, too, though she kept more of her old beauty and composure, and she now appeared a wintry figure in her somber black dress, frost-bitten in aspect like a petrified statue. It was in her eyes, drawn tight around the corners and reflecting bitterness and regret all at once.

Anna feared for a moment that they, too, had contracted the wasting sickness.

"Elsa," Friderich greeted, voice gravelly as one roused from a deep, unforgiving slumber. Zuzanna kept up her stony expression and only nodded. "And…Princess Anna, I presume." He had seen her before, of course. Friderich had been present during the battle of the Southern Isles. "King Agdar is a good man and an old friend. Please extend my well-wishes to him."

"...Of course," Anna said.

"I'll cut to the chase," Elsa said. "On the way here, Anna and I stopped at one of your islands—Wolin. An illness has taken root there, something the locals call serglige. If you'd like I can describe it for you, but I assume you already know the intricacies."

"Wasting sickness," Friderich said. "Yes, I know of it already. An appropriate name. Only a few have contracted it here, but they are…unresponsive."

"And most likely suffer from ramblings and delusions," Elsa finished. "I thought you might. Hans would like me to inform you that something similar has emerged in the Southern Isles, too. "

Anna whipped her head around to stare at Elsa. She had never heard anything about this before—Elsa had been hiding it. It made sense. It didn't surprise Anna, not really. Elsa just wanted to spare her from the guilt, but Anna needed to know. Just how many people had she…had she…?

"We don't know the cause," Elsa said, squeezing her shoulder briefly, but Anna already had an idea.

"It's my fault," Anna murmured. "When I…the Mirror must have…"

Elsa might have stopped her from freezing the world, but that didn't mean damage wasn't already done. Magic from the Mirror had touched people already. Anna could feel it within them all, those people in the ward. She could hear the pain she sent rippling across the world, echoing within those wretched shells of people—people who once had full lives and had dreams yet unfulfilled. She had _ruined_ them.

"It's _not_ ," Elsa said.

"You don't understand, I made them go—I made them _sick_ —"

"No, Anna—"

" _Stop making excuses for me!"_

Elsa went silent. Anna heaved out shaking breaths, her entire body trembling. She had to clutch the arms of her wheelchair just to keep her hands occupied, to make sure she didn't fall.

"It was a mistake bringing me anywhere," Anna said, teeth clenched so tight she thought they might shatter. "You saw it for yourself that I made those people _worse_ once they saw me. You should have never brought me here. You should have—back then, you should have just…"

"Please don't say it," Elsa whispered.

"It is _not_ the time for self-pity and martyrdom," Zuzanna said, finally stepping forward, and Anna flinched at the caustic spite in her voice, cutting as the edge of a serrated knife. But Zuzanna was not just looking at her, was looking to and from her and _Friderich_ , and that confused her just as much as the comment stung. "What's done is done. What matters is the here and now, so _handle_ it."

Just like that, Zuzanna stormed away.

"I – I apologize," Friderich said, shaking his head while rubbing his eyes with one hand. "I'm afraid that you two came at an unfortunate time. So close to the Lantern Festival, my wife, she…she hurts, still."

"Why?" Anna asked quietly.

"It began as a memorial to our daughter. I'm sure you've seen the murals." Friderich cleared his throat, small, wry smile trembling at the corners. "Chrysaa, she was five when we…when she died. It will have been her seventeenth birthday soon, on the day of the festival."

Anna wanted to hit herself for saying something so stupid, for _asking_ and hurting this poor man. All the condolences she had to offer wouldn't be enough. But before she could apologize, she was interrupted by the doors suddenly opening again, swinging apart with visceral force to reveal one furious girl.

"All right, who was it that upset Mama so much—!" Then her gaze fell on Elsa, and her lips pulled into a frown. "Oh. Oh, that makes sense now. I don't know who else I was expecting."

"…Rapunzel," Elsa said.

It was undoubtedly that brown-haired girl in the painting, but her countenance was almost entirely different. If not for the same wide, green eyes, Anna would never have recognized her as the same person. Her hair had been cut short and her cheeks were healthily rounded, rosier than her depiction as a child, and frail was the last word someone might use to describe her now. Rapunzel stomped into the room with deliberately strong steps, ignoring her father's soft protests as she strode towards Elsa, and she was just starting to roll up the sleeves of her dress when Anna spoke up.

"A-Actually, that was…me." Anna cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset her so much."

Rapunzel glanced down and blinked, seemingly seeing her for the first time. "Oh. It's…all right. Mama has been touchy lately, so it probably wasn't your fault. I'm Rapunzel! You're, umm…?"

"Princess Anna, of Arendelle," Friderich said, and Rapunzel widened her eyes.

"I've heard about you! It was so brave what you did, sacrificing yourself for Arendelle," Rapunzel said. She turned and fixed Elsa with a baleful stare. "I'm just sorry you have to deal with _her_ still."

Despite Rapunzel's bravado, Anna saw it, and she knew that Elsa saw it too. Rapunzel was afraid. So afraid that her hands were clenched tight enough that her palms might bleed, that her heart must have leapt in her throat to say any of her strong words. Anna could only imagine the devastation that Elsa had wreaked here. Except she didn't have to imagine, did she? Anna had seen it for herself in Arendelle. She knew just what Elsa was capable of. And for a time, she herself had been capable of even more.

"I know Elsa's done a lot of harm, but she was being manipulated," Anna said, nudging Elsa when she didn't respond. "I'm sure she'll do everything she can to make up for the past."

"…I hope to make amends," Elsa said.

"Okay, that's really weird coming from you." Rapunzel frowned one last time before shrugging. "But if Anna says you're all right, then…fine."

"At any rate," Friderich said gently, "Rapunzel, I believe that you should currently be at the Temple. Not here mouthing off to our guests. Why are you back so early?"

Rapunzel groaned.

Someone behind them cleared their throat, and Anna swiveled her chair to see an elderly man stride through the open doors. But _elderly_ seemed the wrong word. Whoever he was, he was indeed advanced in years – easily older than even the king – and his hair, combed back, was completely white; but his shoulders were broad, his back was straight, and he walked with such obvious strength and authority that he could easily have passed for a younger man. From head to toe he was dressed entirely in white, save for the gold embroidering on his coat; Anna noticed a rose design on his breast.

"Your Majesty," said the man, placing his hand over his heart and making a slight dip of his body. If it was meant to be a bow, it was a miniscule thing that he granted. "I apologize, but Princess Rapunzel's training needed to be delayed, so I accompanied her return. Lazarus was needed elsewhere."

"Yes, of course, and thank you for taking the trouble to do that." Friderich motioned from the man to Anna. "Princess Anna, this is Justiciar Judus, head of the Order of the Rose—and, more importantly, the most trusted advisor of my grandfather, my father, and myself."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Judus said. "Please feel free to visit the temple at any time. Perhaps Princess Rapunzel could guide you when she comes for her lessons."

"L-Likewise, thank you," Anna said.

"Papa is making me learn how to fight," Rapunzel explained, giving Friderich a dirty look before grinning again. "Lazarus is a good teacher, but I _hate_ having to learn with Gwen."

"King Friderich only wants you to be able to defend yourself should the need arise." Judus's smile was thin-lipped, and his eyes narrowed as he fixed his gaze on Elsa. "As we might have learned from the last time Elsa…visited. I cannot say I was looking forward to a reunion. Your Majesty, I take my leave."

Judus departed without waiting for a response, and Elsa let out a slow breath that sounded like a hiss. Even Rapunzel, despite her dislike of Elsa, seemed to wince at Judus's implication; but Anna felt that Rapunzel was embarrassed for _her_ rather than Elsa's sake. Either way, Rapunzel's apologetic smile was directed to Anna instead. Anna had no doubt that Elsa noticed too.

"Well, it was nice meeting you, Anna," Rapunzel said. She looked towards Elsa for a brief instant, almost involuntarily, and then away again. "I'm going to check on Mama for now, but let's talk again soon!"

With that, Rapunzel left as well. Anna wondered if she might have stayed longer if Elsa were elsewhere, and judging from the slight discomfort she noticed from Elsa – something only she could have picked up on – Elsa wondered the same. Was it really fair, though, that Elsa was so blamed for her actions when she barely knew there was another life to be had? But, Anna thought, _she_ had certainly known…

Suddenly she felt suffocated inside this room. Like all its air had rushed into her lungs, hot and cloying in her chest, leaving no room for anything else.

"My apologies, once again, for the interruption," Friderich said.

"It's fine." Elsa waved her hand with a sharp flick of her wrist. "But this illness is…important to me, and I will do whatever I can to help you find a solution. And I suppose I might as well start making my amends here. Tell me everything that you know."

"If you two don't mind," Anna breathed, already turning her wheelchair in the opposite direction, "I'm going to leave."

"Anna—"

"I really need to be outside," Anna said. She didn't look back, furiously pushing herself forward. "I'll see you later, I'll be back soon, but I just really, really need to be gone right now, all right?"

Footsteps.

Anna didn't need to look back to know that Elsa was following.

"It's not safe, please—"

" _I'll be fine!_ " Anna _still_ didn't look back. If she did, Elsa would see just how weak she really was right now, how fragile. Even she thought she might break at any moment. One stray word and she might come undone, like a manikin with strings unraveled. "I'm not helpless. I'll be fine alone."

And Anna left before she let Elsa stop her again.

* * *

"Will she be…all right?"

"Anna will be fine," Elsa said.

But her words rang hollow even to her own ears, and she didn't know what had stopped her from following. Surely not because Anna had asked her not to. Anna might not have been in her right mind, but Elsa should have known better than to let her go alone. Anna didn't know Corona. She didn't know anyone _in_ Corona. Corona was safe enough, especially in broad daylight, but—Anna couldn't even _walk_.

"You don't know what she was like before," Elsa continued, staring at the closed doors. "If you knew her back then, you would know that she's going to recover from this."

"True enough, but perhaps that is why I can see her more clearly now," Friderich said.

Elsa whirled around. It had been some time since she felt the old instinct coming back, the impulse to _hurt_ whatever and whoever had the misfortune to be in her way. It would be easy to give in. She refused to do so. "What are you trying to say?"

"It is good that you were there for her when she needed, but—"

"That's enough," Elsa said quietly. She could finish that thought with any number of her own. None of them were pleasant. "We should discuss serglige."

Elsa didn't want to admit that, without Anna's presence like a splinter under her fingernail distracting her from her thoughts, all of her weariness finally caught up.

She was exhausted.

* * *

 _Flower, gleam and glow…_

 _Let your power shine…_

 _Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine…_

 _Heal what has been hurt. Change the fates' design. Save what has been lost…_

 _Bring back what once was mine…what once…was…mine._

Rapunzel leaned her head against the mural of Chryssa, but no matter how many times she sang that nursery rhyme, she would never bring her sister back. She couldn't even find where her mother had gone, but that had been a guilty relief. She wouldn't have known what to say anyway, and she could imagine the invisible wall between them, the fretful silence as she struggled to form words of comfort.

Chryssa would have known what to say.

Rapunzel knew she was a poor substitute for Chryssa, so inferior that they couldn't even look the slightest bit alike despite being twins. Rapunzel, the sickly one who spent the majority of her childhood bedridden, was still here. Chryssa, vibrant and precocious, so bright that she must have contained the light of the sun within her soul, was gone. Her absence was a vacuum that would never be filled.

"I don't resent you, though," Rapunzel murmured. "I just wish you were here. I miss you, Big Sis."

 _Hey, you'll be all right, Punzie. Just be good and take your medicine, please? I know, I know it's bitter and kinda smelly, but—here, see, I have candy for you afterward! I'll even drink the medicine with you, but you have to take it!_

Every night she would try to recall everything about her sister, and every night the memories became hazier. Rapunzel wondered if she would even remember her sister's _face_ if it weren't for this mural that she could stare at every day. All she recalled were snippets of conversation, glimpses of a warm smile that could brighten even a feverish day. She only remembered that Chryssa had been perfect.

"It's not really fair that you were the one who…" Rapunzel trailed off. She could never bring herself to say it aloud. "When I was the one who was sick all the time. And I got better afterwards, like…I don't know. Like that was some really messed up trade. Like God just thought it would be fair to take you if he made me well again. I don't even know what happened to you. All Mother and Father will say is that you disappeared. Did you run away? Were you kidnapped? Are you…still out there?"

 _If you are, then why haven't you come home?_

* * *

It was no better outside.

There were too many people.

Anna should have expected a crowd at the marketplace during the height of noon, when the sun shone at its brightest and the ocean breeze brought the refreshing scent of sea salt on cool winds. She couldn't be greedy enough to hoard the delicious warmth of the light on her skin. Everyone here had the right to enjoy the beautiful day of light and breeze—more right than she did, even, to witness this scene of brick roads glowing gold under the sun, to stroll through the line of vendors shaded by colorful buildings. She knew she would have reveled in the merriment of a bustling crowd once.

But Anna regretted her decision to explore as soon as she found herself lost within the tumult of people. Too much activity for her eyes to follow. Too much sound for her ears to process. Her vision tunneled and her hearing drowned itself with hollow ringing. Too many people. Too many people walking this and that direction, brushing past her shoulders and nudging her wheelchair and jarring her body this way and that. Anna froze, and that made it worse, worse, worse. They must be staring. They must find her so strange. Now people had their attention on her and they _had_ to know, that girl stuck in a wheelchair and stuck in the middle of the street was a—was a— _monster demon murderer—_

"Excuse me! Miss!"

Anna snapped her head back and was greeted by a girl she had never met before, smiling the brightest smile she had ever seen.

Amber eyes stared into hers, and looking into their bronze-gold depths, Anna felt the miasma pulled over her senses lifting, as though burned away by the sheer radiance of the girl standing to her side. Anna was so taken aback that she was struck mute for a moment, and the girl seemed content to simply wait, humming a light tune under her breath while Anna recovered.

Her immediate thought was that this girl, whoever she might be, was beautifully, strikingly pretty. It was an entirely objective observation. There was no other way to describe her face. She had soft, gentle features, a thin brow and a slender face framed by light-brown hair that only accentuated the milky-white quality of her skin; but most striking was her smile. There was a brilliance about her smile, her person, which radiated such vibrant energy that it was impossible to feel ill at ease in her presence.

"D-Did you need something?" Anna asked.

"Nope!" When the girl smiled again, she revealed slightly crooked teeth and rather pronounced canines. Combined with the dimple in the side of her cheek, Anna had the distinct feeling she was younger than herself. "But I noticed you looking a bit lost, soooo. Anyway, I'm Solaris! But you can call me Sol."

"I'm…Anna."

"Nice to meet you! Or…something like that," Sol said, waving her hands. "I think that's the part where I'm supposed to offer you a handshake, but I'm not really good with formalities. I think we're around the same age, right? Let's be friends!"

"Do you usually just make friends with strangers?" Anna asked, but she wasn't offended. Surprised, maybe, but she was mostly just amused. It wasn't every day that someone came up and offered to be friends with such an easy smile, and she soon found herself relaxing despite everything.

"Do _you_ usually just wander around on your own?"

"I never really had the chance to do that before, but…I think I would have," Anna said, and Sol grinned. "But you didn't answer my question. You don't know anything about me, but you want to be friends?"

"Not true, I know that you like to wander and that you get lost easily. Oh, and you're pretty." It was hard not to smile around Sol. Her grin widened when Anna did, her eyes curving into half-moons. "But there _are_ no strangers anyway! Only people you haven't met yet, with stories you haven't heard yet."

"That's…" Anna trailed off, laughing softly under her breath.

 _That's how I used to think._

"So I'm guessing you're new around here," Sol said, looking thoughtful as she rubbed her chin with her index and middle fingers. "If you want, I can show you around!"

"That would…be great," Anna said. Her first instinct was to say no. Not because she didn't want company, far from it. She was just better off alone—Sol, that was, _she_ would doubtless be better off without Anna. Without the constant shadow of Anna's presence clouding her own brightness.

Sol raised an eyebrow. "Is that a yes, or are you trying to lead up to a polite no?"

Anna smiled. "I'll take you up on that, thank you."

But for whatever reason, Anna didn't want to refuse.

Sol grinned and doubled around to take hold of the wheelchair handles. Anna sat back and allowed her to direct their course, more at ease than she had felt in an eternity.

"All right, but you'll have to tell me your story…"


	4. Sinister Innocence

**a/n:** Revisions: Various dialogue changes between Anna and Sol.

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Sinister Innocence**

It was early in the morning, and chilly enough for him to wear a cloak and not look entirely out of place.

Besides, Alek thought, many of those living in the slums similarly wore their homes on their backs. These heavy cloaks, made of thick, coarse fabric, were what the poorest slept on. Luckier ones might live under a crumbling roof, but that was life here, these shantytowns that were packed into one corner of the region—an elaborate labyrinth of blackened paths and crumbling stone that doubled in on itself like diseased intestines. Ironically, it had looked _better_ while Elsa reigned. If there was one thing the snow was good for, it was hiding the rot jammed into the underbelly of the Southern Isles.

Alek had never visited these parts, content to follow the convention of past generations. Policy was to let the slums govern themselves save for collection of taxes and the occasional crackdown on crime, though _that_ was certainly led by less important officials, not members of the royal family. Based on what he had heard of the slums, Alek expected them to be decrepit.

What he did _not_ expect was the absolute devastation more befitting a warzone than a residence.

It was disgusting. Alek had pushed through the gates leading inside and immediately been assaulted by a rancor more putrid than the stench of corpses. Buildings fought for space and twisted upwards in mounds of concrete, and the air trapped within became heavy, stale, pressing on him with its dark humidity. Flies buzzed around mounds of trash. Water ran black, oozing into sewers of sludge. Birds and carrion-eaters flitted through the narrow corridors, likely smelling death and waiting for its latest meal among the residents.

It was…sad.

Alek shoved down his rising empathy. There would be time to reflect on this when he wasn't on a mission and potentially in enemy territory.

"And I thought _I_ hated you," Alek muttered, standing across from a vandalized wall and half-admiring the rather unflattering depiction of Elsa. But that was hardly the most interesting thing here.

Another wall depicted Anna.

She had been painted with loving detail, far from the crude portrayal that Elsa suffered. Whoever drew this was both talented and dedicated, but most alarmingly—accurate _._ Alek hated to dredge up the memories, but even among his hazy recollections he could remember _Her_ — _Queen_ Anna. Porcelain skin and hair redder than blood, shining silver armor and crimson cape that made her look like a descended Valkyrie. Many people witnessed that sight. But the finer details, the curve of Anna's brow, the turn of her lips, the slight bump in the bridge of her nose? Whoever painted this knew too much and too well _._

It seemed that Hans was right about there being a cult dedicated to Anna.

Alek repressed a shudder at what seeing Anna like that again awoke in him. Some part of him still wanted to prostrate himself at Her feet and worship Her blindly, and that terrified him, the thought that he might once again be lost to that euphoria of numbing mindlessness. Even now he remembered, but—he dragged himself out of those recollections.

 _Goddamnit, not now._

If there really was a growing cult here, judging by the mural, they were doing little to hide their tracks. Alek hadn't expected them to be subtle. Rather than simply fooling the scouts they had sent, the vigilantes instead pinned their heads to the castle gates. Dramatics seemed to be their calling card. Here, there were arrows painted in the mural that pointed down an alleyway, and Alek followed. He wasn't alone. Many others were moving down the same path, and as he passed them he could make out hushed whispers of fear and respect both.

Not a resident of the slums, finding his way through the alleys would have been nigh impossible. More arrows painted on the walls, bright red in contrast to the grime, guided his path. It was irritating being told where to go. Alek felt like he was being jerked this way and that, sometimes having barely turned into one alley before needing to turn sharply on his heel and go down another way. Beneath the cover of his cloak, he kept his hand on his sword.

After what felt like an eternity being trapped in that maze, Alek finally stumbled into one of the few wider clearings of the slums. There was already a crowd gathering, and Alek kept to the edge. In the middle of the clearing was a wooden stage, the planks rotten and feeble but serviceable enough. There were already two people standing there, both of them, to Alek's disgust, wearing the skull mask that had been trademark of the Sorcerer—of Edmund.

"If you would all give him your attention," said one of the two, the shorter one, so softly that Alek couldn't even make out whether they were male or female, "Brennus will speak now."

At once, the crowd silenced.

Now a third figure walked onto the stage, but he was not masked. At first glance, Alek thought the man looked old, certainly middle-aged—his face was thin, long, and his features disheveled, his coat tattered, but there was a vitality to his movements that spoke otherwise. More careful scrutiny shocked him. Beneath the unkempt appearance was the face of a man who had barely matured from a boy, a man who could not have been past his mid-twenties. No, this person was not old but _young_ , certainly younger than himself.

"My name is Brennus, and I speak today as the mouthpiece of the Red Tempest."

Brennus swept his gaze over the crowd, and Alek stilled when he passed over him. Had Brennus paused for a fraction of a second? Green-yellow eyes, their color almost venomous, bore through him like the fangs of a snake. Alek felt a prickle at the back of his neck from that simple gaze, and he realized—

 _This man is dangerous._

"Do not be mistaken. I am not the leader or in charge," Brennus said. His voice had an angry, throaty quality, as though he were on the verge of growling. "You have been robbed of autonomy long enough."

Murmurs arose in the crowd. Agreement. Alek heard the frustration in their voices, the resentment.

"And I, too, have been weak and powerless," Brennus continued, clenching his fist. "I was from Corona, and I was an orphan. I fled from my parents when I realized that their giving me life did not grant them the right to hurt me. I was…young, when I left. But there was no choice. There was no life to be had.

"At the orphanage where I found respite, I met Ayden, and Morgan, and many other friends who would become my true family." Brennus nodded to the two others on stage, the masked ones. "But that place was every bit as hellish as the home from which I fled. Once again, I found myself living under the thumb of another. I had traded the brutality of my parents for the cold neglect of the caretaker.

"When Elsa attacked our nation, my friends and I fought. We were children, but we fought so that we would not be separated. Even mounting a defense took everything we had, and yet we were separated—and enslaved.

"But our fight did not end there. I did everything I could to defy my slavers, I rebelled, I fled, I fought. Others joined me…but pushed to our wit's end, we were killed one by one. We were hunted down like animals. In that hopelessness, we learned…the only way to survive was _to_ kill. Only those who bore a steeled will would live through that hell."

Alek looked away. It was an unfortunate truth that the Southern Isles had enslaved many among the conquered. Many times, his men had been the ones sent to retrieve escaped slaves. Some of those he trained to guard the castle had _been_ slaves, captured to round out their ranks.

Brennus exhaled a slow breath.

"It was then, in the throes of despair, that I looked to the sky…and found a goddess." Brennus placed his hand over his heart, dug his fingers into his chest. His eyes, widened and alight with mad fervor, looked up to the sky as though he might catch a glimpse of his goddess again. "Queen Anna was our goddess. Our savior who would show us the path to freedom. But before her work could be completed…she was taken from us. Now I take on her mantle. She has enlightened me. I see now that my despair is not my shackle but my key, the key to freedom, to liberty. Despair has shown me the path that we must take.

"Let me now enlighten you." Brennus bowed his head, smiling a sardonic smile. "Why do you linger here? Your lot should not be among the filth. Why suffer under yet another unjust king, who would shackle you again? Why obey the whims of untalented men, who pretend to own your lives? How shall the world be served? Your life and your will are your own. Throw away your restraints. Throw away the chains that keep you tied down to the ground, to this pit of snakes. Queen Anna has shown us the way. We no longer need to be enslaved by kings, by false, undeserving gods! Queen Anna has blessed us, and I bear her gift to me as a symbol of her sacrifice, to never forget her memory. I vow to you today— _Queen Anna will guide us to revolution!_ "

Shadows erupted from Brennus' feet and spiraled around him before jutting straight up into the sky, a twister of terrible force. Even from his distance, Alek could feel the wind whipping at his face, his skin, the murky heat like the heat haze of a desert. Up above the darkness exploded outward, taking the form of a massive phoenix of fire, glorious wings of black flame spread wide.

"Spread the wings of rebellion!"

Alek stared open-mouthed as the roaring cheers reached a crescendo, as the phoenix let loose a piercing screech and the air became filled with the acrid smell of burning ozone. It shouldn't have been possible. Shadow magic was in the blood of his family, was— _Edmund._

"And before I forget," Brennus said, "Prince Alek has joined us today."

Brennus pointed, and all eyes fell on him. Alek felt his blood chill at the hollow gazes that surrounded him on all sides, the horde of people who were now staring at him with murderous intent. They barely seemed human.

Alek ran.

"Morgan," Brennus said.

Alek looked back to see the masked woman leap off the stage, tendrils of the same shadow magic practically launching her forward. She hit the ground running, sword drawn, and Alek spared no more time wondering why there was a _second person_ with shadow magic. He sprinted back into the alleyways, heart pounding in time with every thud of his feet against pavement. All the corridors looked the same. Narrow, entrapping, with far too many obstacles in the way—trash. Alek shoved it all out of the way, scattering a mound of rotting food as he ran, and he chanced a glance behind—Morgan leapt onto the side of a building and kicked off the walls, flipping neatly past the debris before resuming her charge.

It was ridiculous. Alek threw whatever he could behind him, hoping to slow her down, but Morgan only jumped up, seized a hanging pipe, and flung herself onto the roofs. She was more agile than any human, more relentless than a machine. No matter where he turned, Morgan was there following from above. If Alek had felt like a puppet on strings in these alleyways before, now he felt like _prey._ Knives came flying past, and Alek ducked to avoid the blades whistling past his head, kept running to escape the dark fire tearing through the ground in pursuit.

Only a growing shadow from above warned him of what was coming—Alek drew his sword and blocked with hardly a moment to spare when Morgan leapt onto him, but her momentum alone shunted him back. He rolled away from a powerful strike, the heavy claymore in Morgan's hands upturning the earth, but she had missed her opportunity to kill him.

Now that he was on his feet, Alek could win.

Morgan was, admittedly, skilled, but she was still no match for him. Alek parried her next strike, using the power of her swings against her, and then spun around, kicked her hard in the back of the knee. Her entire leg buckled and Morgan hissed, stumbling to the ground, hand slamming in the dirt. Alek backed off for a moment, content to let her get back up before resuming their duel, but—Morgan spun around and, before Alek could react, threw a handful of dirt in his eyes.

Alek cursed, tripping backwards as the debris blurred his vision with tears, and his mindless swing was casually batted aside. Morgan kicked him in the gut and followed up with a punch to the side of his head. Alek hit the ground, hard. He was amazed he was still conscious. He thought he might throw up, blinded and deafened by the ringing in his head.

"Do you have _any_ honor?" Alek growled.

"Honor? I just do what needs to be done," Morgan said, and then her boot slammed into his hand hard enough to crack the bone. Alek bit back a scream as Morgan kicked the sword out of his hand, and then he felt steel hover over his throat. "Honor is a privilege. Survival is a need. If you can't recognize that, then you deserve to die."

"Wait, Morgan!"

Not Brennus. It was Ayden, the one who had spoken softly before, but now Alek heard that his voice was oddly high-pitched. At his calling, the steel left his throat. Alek had no idea why his execution was being put on hold, but he hurried to blink the dirt from his eyes, his vision clearing just barely enough to see.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't just kill him now," Morgan said. Alek crawled away an inch, only for Morgan to stomp on his back. Releasing an involuntary groan, he coughed out a mouthful of blood.

"Victory isn't gained through closing someone's eyes forever," Ayden said. "It's through making them see through your own. So please…let him live for now."

"You're too soft."

After a moment, Morgan lifted her foot, and Alek raised his head blearily. His last memory was a heavy blow to the back of his head, and then there was only darkness.

* * *

Anna was having fun.

Time passed, Sol guiding Anna through the marketplace with a careful hand and Anna keeping her end of their bargain by telling Sol about herself. She omitted enough details to keep her identity hidden, but she was surprisingly comfortable, enough to even tell of her childhood—about Pappa, about all the time she spent alone, about her confiding in the painting of Joan of Arc. On her part, Sol was the best of audiences. She listened attentively, humming along to let Anna know she was still following, and waited for her to stop before asking questions and making comments that were insightful but not invasive.

"I don't remember much about Mamma," Anna said. She hardly realized that she was saying much more than she had intended. "I mostly remember the things she tried to teach me, to be kind, to be optimistic, open-minded."

"You remember the important things, then," Sol said, and Anna looked up to an encouraging smile. "If she could have picked what you would remember of her, I bet she would pick that."

"I think so too, but…thank you for saying that."

Anna glanced down to her lap, comforted by the thought that maybe her mother _would_ approve. How odd that she was pouring her soul out to this stranger—but not a stranger anymore. Sol likely knew more about her than anyone except for Pappa and Elsa, and Elsa had certainly needed _much_ more time.

"But I'm sorry I've just been going on about me. You should tell me about yourself too," Anna said, and Sol hummed once in agreement. "Solaris is a pretty unusual name, right?"

"…Hmm. That seems like a rude question," Sol said coldly.

"I-I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to pry." Anna was stricken by the thought that she might lose Sol's approval. "Sol is a beautiful name, I was just curious where it was from, and—"

"It's all right, I was just kidding! Sorry, sorry." Sol giggled behind her hand. Just as Anna's tumultuous heartbeat began to calm, Sol added, voice once again pensive, "But that really was rude."

"I didn't mean—"

"Kidding! Don't be so serious, Anna." Sol laughed again, and Anna had no idea what to think. "Not a very common name, I know. Thank you, though! I picked it myself."

"Wait, you…picked your name?"

"Oh, look over there!"

Sol rushed them over to one of the vendors. At the stall were all sorts of flowers, roses and lilies and daffodils and carnations and magnolias. Practically squealing with excitement, Sol began examining every one, running her hands over the petals and leaning in to smell the mixing fragrances.

"It's a bit tasteless jamming them all here," Sol said, seemingly unperturbed by the scowl the owner sent their way. "Not much sense of harmony, like you're making them fight for attention. Each flower should have its own role, you know. Can't just have them all bunched up. No order at all."

"Are you interested in flower arrangements?" Anna asked.

"Flower arrangements…?" Sol blinked owlishly, and then suddenly grinned. "I guess you could say that. If I buy some of these, would you help me take them home? I don't have any hands free."

Anna paused. She would help in a heartbeat, except she didn't know how long that would take and she couldn't even walk. It would be best to stay here, close to the castle. But then, it wouldn't be fair to Sol if Anna kept her from buying anything just to keep showing her around the marketplace…

"Maybe I should head back on my own, and that'll free you up—"

"No, I like hanging out!" Sol wrung her hands together and widened her eyes as she stared at Anna. "It's not far from here, I promise. Help me liberate these poor flowers?"

It was hard to refuse, especially when Sol jutted out her bottom lip and pouted.

Carrying two vases full of flowers – which the irritated vendor had prepared while Sol bemoaned how he was torturing them – Anna allowed herself to relax while Sol led the way. Strangely, she walked right past the residential areas and back to the docks, where a bridge connected Corona to the outskirts and more untamed wilderness. Anna kept a tight grip on the flowers as they ascended the slight arc in the bridge, mindful of the water rising to the edge of the vase.

"You don't live in the city?" Anna asked.

"Nooooo, way too crowded here," Sol said. She pointed to the smaller town just past the other side of the bridge, where more modest homes, lower to the ground, were surrounded by trees and foliage. "I live there. Oh, be careful. Jeez, they need to do something about this stupid bridge." Sol slowed down as they began their descent down the arc, and Anna turned to smile at her thoughtfulness.

"It looks nice, though."

"Mhm, you're right!" Sol said, sounding much more pleased than Anna thought the occasion warranted. But then again, Sol always seemed enthusiastic. "It's good to look at the positive side of things."

"Yeah," Anna said. "I guess so, sometimes."

"Not just sometimes." Sol hummed, looking up at the sky as her lips curved into a smile. "No matter what terrible things happen, good things will come. I believe it, I really do. Good always wins."

Sol sounded so full of conviction that Anna didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise.

They traveled on in relative silence for a time, accompanied by the sounds of wildlife. Birds occasionally chirped from the trees and Sol would always peep back, once or twice garnering a confused response; Anna and Sol looked at each other before Sol burst into giggles.

"Oh, we're here!"

Indeed they were. Anna had been so preoccupied with Sol's game that she hadn't kept her eyes on the road, but now she looked up and saw the name inscribed on a wooden sign—Merryvale.

They weren't quite at the village proper yet, but Anna could already tell it was a simple, homey sort of place. Merryvale seemed quite independent from Corona if the groves and fields outside the gates were any indication. Each one was small but neat and orderly, hemmed in with stacked stones and wooden rails which, as Sol explained, helped keep the cattle out of their crops. Other buildings were sheepfolds, dairies, barns, all of them made from thatched straw and wooden logs. Indeed, there was a team packing straw not far away, and at the sight of Sol, the men and women waved and hollered greetings.

Once they were past the fields, they came to the village gate, which once again impressed Anna with its inviting simplicity. Its walls were not stone but wood, the logs fitted together to form a smooth surface planed and polished, and the gate stood wide open, with no guards as far as Anna could see.

"You'll like it here," Sol said, and Anna was inclined to agree. "Everyone is friendly. Maybe too friendly sometimes, honestly. You'll see what I mean."

Anna was still mulling over that when, almost as soon as they entered the village, an elderly couple rushed to greet them.

"Sol!" Beaming at them both, the old man looked simply ecstatic. Beside the man, his wife clasped her hands around Sol's own. "It's so good to see you. Who's this lovely lady?"

"Anna just got here, so I'm showing her around," Sol said. "I'll come by for tea, I promise. Save some of the green-leaf for me!"

They had barely left those two before more people came by to greet Sol, and again, Sol politely peeled herself away with promises of meeting them again some other time. Every time they managed to get away from one person, another stopped them, but Sol never expressed any irritation. She responded enthusiastically, knowing _everyone_ by name, usually knowing some personal detail about them that she asked about—their children, or in the case of the children, how they were doing at their favorite subjects in school. Anna was amused to see that Sol and her charming smile had the people of this town wrapped around her finger. She wondered if Sol _knew_ the power of her influence.

Finally, after meeting what seemed like the entire town's populace, they were alone.

"Seems like you're a celebrity," Anna said.

"Oh, you don't know the worst of it," Sol said, sighing as Anna grinned at her misfortune. "Don't get me wrong, I think they're great, but I can't get any peace."

"Not in the city, not in the village, huh?"

"Exactly." Sol shrugged, heaving out an exaggerated sigh, but Anna had the feeling she was the type of person who thrived on interaction. If not, she was certainly talented at it. "I ended up having to move away from everyone! Buuuuuuut…I like my place. We'll be there soon, just down the valley."

Sol took them past what Anna assumed were the residential areas and into more hilly terrain, which might have seemed like uncultivated space if not for the perfectly cleared path—wide enough for even a horse-driven cart. Anna didn't feel any sort of turbulence in her wheelchair, far from the bumpy journey she expected. In fact, Anna realized, there had to be considerable upkeep. Not a single stone lay on the smooth path. On either side, perfectly symmetrical trees leaned inwards to form a canopy that shaded the path just enough to keep it cool, but allowed enough light to keep it visible. Was Sol wealthy?

When the path opened into the valley clearing, Anna felt her jaw drop.

"You…live here…?"

Sol grinned.

Anna wheeled forward on her own, absentmindedly moving her hands as her eyes roved over the beauty before them. If there could be paradise on earth, then she had surely found it here—in this garden that had to be born of dreams, grander and more dignified by far than the one at the castle.

Everything was in perfect harmony with nature. Her path transitioned to a field of low grass, filled with flowers upon flowers that swayed gently with the breeze. Bordering it was healthy woodland, undisturbed and full of lush, towering trees. But trees as she had never seen before, ones with silvery wood and petals of light pink and rose gold. Multi-colored petals drifted to the ground so slowly that they almost seemed suspended in the air, each one catching the twilight of the setting sun. Anna felt like she was walking through a hall of stars.

"What do you think?" Sol asked.

"It's gorgeous," Anna said.

Golden light slanted down towards the trees, sculpting shadows off the canyon walls in ways Anna was sure was deliberate. It was as though someone had taken note of how the sun would strike every inch of the rock, every hour of the day in every season of the year, and then shaped it accordingly. If Anna hadn't been studying her surroundings so closely, she might have mistaken it to be untouched nature. But it was not. It was nature perfected, touched so gracefully that it was humbly, quietly perfect.

Further down the road were thick bushels of pink roses that formed a ring surrounding a clear pond. White stone cut a path into the midst of the pond where, made of the same shining, silvery wood Anna had seen before, stood a cottage—of sorts. It almost resembled a conch shell, the way it had been carved from what must have been a tree of monolithic proportions, or perhaps the tree had simply twisted in on itself, had grown there that way.

"Has your family owned this place for a long time?" Anna asked.

Sol shook her head, laughing. "No, I don't come from a wealthy family or anything like that. I designed all this myself." Anna simply stared, speechless. Never mind the manpower necessary. How much _time_ must have been invested here? It didn't even seem possible. "Come on! Let me show you the inside."

"Wait," Anna said, and Sol stopped halfway down the path to her home. Suspicion trickling through her thoughts, her hands tensed around her seat. "I don't – I don't understand. All of this, how did—?"

"Hmm…" Sol considered her for a moment. "You'd be surprised what you can do with the right place and enough time on your hands. Back at the orphanage, it was my dream to create a place like this."

"At the orphanage?" Anna loosened her grip, suddenly feeling a little ashamed at her paranoia and then regretting asking about this new, likely painful subject. Sol sounded so _solemn_ compared to her previous cheer. What right did she have to pry? "I'm sorry, and I kept talking about my family earlier—"

"Don't worry about it! I didn't mind…much." Anna was sure it was meant to be reassuring, but she didn't feel any better. Sol grinned. "Besides, I was the one who asked, I wanted to know more about you. I just didn't say anything about the orphanage because I didn't want to throw a sob story at you when we'd just met. Now _that_ would have been selfish."

"It…feels like that was what _I_ was doing," Anna admitted. It had been comforting, though, to have someone listen. Now she wondered if that had been a little unfair. "Do you…want to talk about it?"

"…Mmm."

With that, Sol began humming a quiet melody. She had a beautiful voice with an almost seraphic quality; but, Anna thought, she never wanted to hear her sing again. Sol's voice was marred by a piercing clarity that conveyed sorrow with every note, but there was an undercurrent of raw, bleeding anger there too, hurt that was like a wound. It _hurt_ to listen. Anna was just beginning to wonder if Sol was going to say anything, when: "A lullaby my mother sang for me. It's the best memory I have of them, my parents."

"They…"

"Theyyyyy just didn't want me anymore! I dunno." Sol didn't sound upset. Anna would have understood if she did, but instead she still sounded as cheerful as ever, and the worst part was that it sounded horribly _real_. "Sorry about the sob story. Anyway, the orphanage wasn't all bad. Like I said, good things come out of bad situations! I met good friends there."

Sol took the flowers from Anna and bounced to the front of her cottage, setting them down on the windowsills. Frankly speaking, they looked discordant from the rest of the place, oddly ordinary in comparison to the ethereal beauty around them, but Sol seemed pleased enough. Anna belatedly realized that Sol had never answered her question about the impossibility of her home.

"Sol! There's been an accident!"

Anna snapped out of her reverie at the panicked call. Sol sobered, wordlessly dashing inside her house and then emerging with a workbag.

"Do you want to stay here or come with me?" Sol asked.

"I – I'll go with you," Anna said, and Sol nodded.

They rushed towards the source of the yell, Sol running ahead this time rather than pushing her along. Anna hardly understood what was happening. What kind of accident? Why did they come to Sol?

Back where the garden began was a small crowd of villagers carrying a woman in their midst, and Anna immediately saw that one of her legs was dangling uselessly, dripping dark blood over the once-pristine grass. Even an inexperienced eye would immediately be able to tell that her left leg was broken, and horribly so. One jagged end of bone was pushing through her flesh, the white gleam of it a disgusting contrast to the red of her blood.

"Lay her down and move away," Sol ordered, setting out a tarp there in the grass. "We don't have time to move her anywhere else."

Sol produced a splint and bandages from her workbag, and Anna watched from the periphery with the others. Luckily, the woman was already unconscious and not writhing in what would have been agony; Sol pulled her leg this way and that with smooth, practiced motions, until the bone slipped back into place. She quickly splinted the leg to hold it steady, and then—

Anna gasped.

Power flared so strongly that Anna felt it run over her skin like static. Immediately, a protective semi-sphere enclosed Sol and the woman, inverted like the bowl of the sky, shimmering like heat haze. Inside, Sol spread her hands over the woman's injured leg and they began to glow with verdant green fire. A heady aroma filled the air, of breeze after a rain, of flowers in bloom, and even watching from a distance Anna could feel a thrill of healing energy that filled her with a sense of well-being.

 _Magic._

Anna watched unblinkingly. She had never expected to see magic here, of all places. Through the gaps in the splint, she saw raw flesh knit together like patchwork, heard a faint grating as the bone repaired itself in seconds. It was over as soon as it began. Sol made a gesture and the half sphere vanished, taking with it the energy swirling inside. There was no sign to show she had done anything and no sign even that the woman had ever been injured, except for blood still on her body. But she was perfectly healed.

In just a moment, the woman woke. Sol grinned, taking off the splint and helping her stand. Her face was pale and her stance was unsteady, but she was alive and her leg was intact. When Anna heard the muttering of the awed crowd, she couldn't help but find herself in agreement.

"Thank you, Sol, thank you so much—"

"I'm just glad you're all right!" Sol said, guiding the woman to the crowd, where she was received with great care. "If you all would please, please, _please_ make sure she rests for today?"

After more words of thanks, the villagers departed. Sol waved until they were gone, waiting until they were out of sight before breathing out a deep sigh. Anna wondered if Sol would say anything, and she waited. Sol only began stretching this way and that, hands alternating from one hip to the other as she turned with gusto. But Anna couldn't wait anymore. Any other time she would have let Sol bring it up herself, would have let her do it so she would be comfortable, but Anna _needed_ to know.

"You…can use magic," Anna said.

"Really takes a toll on you," Sol said, rolling her neck before turning back towards Anna. "What's wrong?"

Had her sudden burst of hope shown on her face, that Sol would ask her that? Anna did her best to slow her breathing, but her chest was tightening with every second, her heart was beating faster and faster until she could feel the thrumming of blood in her ears.

"You can heal," Anna said again.

"I can," Sol said. She sounded uncharacteristically serious now, and her words came slower and more measured while she stared unblinkingly at Anna. "Is there something I can do for you…Anna?"

Anna didn't want to be hopeful. It was just as hurtful as it was elating that here was a chance. Maybe Sol could heal her too. Maybe Sol could heal whatever was wrong with her that made her feel so unhappy, so weak and pathetic and— _wrong_. Anna gripped her dress at the knees, her head bowed.

"Heal me," Anna said. Before Sol could answer she added, "It's not just my legs, I don't feel like myself anymore, I don't feel – right. All the time, I just—I just—"

"It's all right," Sol murmured, and Anna looked up. Sol walked towards her and kneeled down in front of her wheelchair. "I'll do my best."

Instantly, the translucent dome rose around them again. Being inside was different from watching from the outside. It was not quite as white as she had first believed, but rather a white that shimmered continuously between all colors of light, from one to the next. Anna felt the looming power even more strongly than before, an age-old force of pure light, of which she only caught the barest glimpse before her comprehension slipped away. It was not to be understood by someone like her, someone not chosen. Instead she only felt golden warmth, and song, and she wondered if Sol felt this all the time.

If she did, then Anna envied her.

But when the dome fell, Anna felt the piercing darkness rise up over her again, like a curtain that had drawn open for the briefest second suddenly being swept closed once more. No. She felt worse, the heavy pressure in her chest rising so thick she could hardly breathe. She had glimpsed something better for that fraction of an instant, and that knowledge of what she was lacking _hurt_. She could only grasp at a shadow of it now.

"I'm sorry," Sol said.

"It's all right."

"You were right. It's not your legs. It's…something here. Isn't it?" Sol put her hand over her heart, and Anna looked away. "Like something is…broken. I'm sorry, but I can't fix that for you."

"I think I want to go now," Anna said quietly.

"It's going to be all right, Anna," Sol said softly. "Remember to have hope."

Anna sat back, unwilling to move, but she was glad that Sol was pushing her wheelchair from behind.

At least this way she could cry and not be seen.


	5. Old Beginnings

**a/n:** Revisions: Extended scene of Anna and Elsa in the marketplace.

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Old Beginnings**

Nightmares again, just like every night before and most likely every night after, always different, always the same. Alvard, falling from the towers and crumpling on the ground, limbs twisted and broken. Tobias, clutching his crushed windpipe and asphyxiating before her eyes. Fabian, his burned and blackened body crumbling away even as he reached for her throat. Saul, swept under the waves and crushed within the suffocating darkness of the ocean. All the countless victims who, within the confines of a labyrinth dungeon, she had experimented on— _he_ had experimented on. But the worst of it was—

 _Gustaf dying for him_

 _How must it have felt that his own son was plotting his death plotting for him to die in his stead and_ _ **still**_ _he died willingly just to save him_

 _Gustaf trying to make him see but he never saw until it was too late until any chance to make things better had slipped away from him and he could never ever ever ever say that he was sorry he was wrong so wrong so so so wrong please come back please please please_

 _—_ _ **Father—**_

"It's not my fault," Anna whispered. She splashed her face with water and raised her head, looked at her reflection in the mirror and watched the droplets slide down her hair and her cheeks. She wasn't sure what other face she might have been expecting. It shouldn't have been a surprise to see her own. "It wasn't me. It wasn't me. It wasn't me. I didn't do…anything."

 _Me…_

 _Who is_ _this_ me _?_

It was another morning.

Anna dried her face, brushed her hair back, and left the room to join Elsa.

* * *

Strangely enough, Elsa wasn't the only one waiting.

"I figured I'd give you two a tour if you don't mind me tagging along," Rapunzel said, before leaning in conspiratorially and whispering, "Work with me, I don't usually get to just leave the castle!"

Anna smiled. "Sounds great to me. What do you think, Elsa?"

"I don't mind," Elsa said.

"Great, because I don't really care too much what you think," Rapunzel said, and Elsa didn't quite sigh, exactly, but exhaled a louder-than-usual breath and looked away.

They left the castle, Elsa pushing Anna along and Rapunzel exuberantly leading the way, practically bouncing with every step. She seemed a _little_ more at ease around Elsa. Anna imagined that it helped to be away from the castle where they'd most likely first met, as well as the gorgeous weather. Looking up at a clear blue sky and white clouds, even she felt energized.

"You were out late last night," Elsa said.

"I made a friend," Anna said.

"I didn't see your friend when you came back."

"Sol walked me back to the castle, but she didn't want to come inside so I didn't push," Anna said. It was true. Sol had stopped a long ways from the castle, far enough that it was likely more than simple nerves. Distaste? "Actually, she's pretty amazing. You should meet her too, I think you would—Oh."

"Anna?"

"I just realized." At the thought of Sol's healing magic, she remembered Elsa had been discussing the wasting sickness, serglige, with King Friderich while she was away. "Sol has magic, and maybe—"

"What _?"_ Elsa came to a dead halt and doubled around, her voice raised enough that even Rapunzel stopped and looked back. "Anna, this person—did she do anything to you? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine!" Anna said, but Elsa was still examining her face, examining her eyes for _something_ and clearly not listening. "Really, I'm fine. Elsa, I'm fine, I promise—"

"What happened?"

"We met in the marketplace, and I helped her take some flowers back to her house—"

"You followed her to—? Anna, you need to be more careful!" Elsa frowned. "You can't just trust that a stranger who approaches you has good intentions, and this person, if she has magic, she could be dangerous. Who knows what she's capable of, what ulterior motives she might have?"

"She doesn't even know who I am, and I didn't say anything about that either," Anna bit out. "If you would just listen to me for a moment—"

"No, _you_ need to listen," Elsa said. "I didn't want to leave you on your own but I gave you space because I trusted you, though clearly, I was wrong. You don't know how to take care of yourself—"

" _What?"_

Elsa seemed to be struck dumb, but Anna shoved her away. She couldn't even _look_ at Elsa. She bowed her head, clutching the knees of her dress and struggling to control her hastening, rasping breaths. It felt like she was choking even as she breathed, like something was lodged in her throat. She felt her heartbeat, the vicious siege of it against her ribs, the echo of it in her ears. She wanted to scream but she wasn't sure she had enough air to even try it.

Rapunzel rejoined them, clearing her throat and quietly pulling Elsa away. "Anna, just ignore us and take a moment. Everything will be fine. Just breathe. We'll wait here, all right?"

Anna swallowed, nodding as best she could.

She wasn't new to these attacks. She could get through this just as she had every other time. Slowly, breathing in through her nose and focusing on one spot on the pavement, her senses returned to her slowly. Her chest wasn't so tight. After another minute, she managed to catch her breath, and she swallowed hard, dragged her fingers through her hair. Anna grounded herself again.

"Feeling better now?" Rapunzel asked.

Anna nodded. "I'm fine. I'm sorry, I don't…"

It hadn't been any easier than last time.

"All right, listen to me." Rapunzel spun on her heel and jabbed a finger into Elsa's chest. "You need to lay off and let Anna talk. It's fine that you're worried but she's sitting right there, safe and in one piece."

"…Yes."

"And Anna, before you were so rudely interrupted, you were saying…?"

"…Sol can heal," Anna said. "I watched her do it. I was thinking, maybe we could ask her to help with the serglige problem. It's worth a try, right?"

"Oh, I've actually heard about a healer too, but I thought those were just rumors," Rapunzel said. "See, Elsa? Completely legitimate. Not everything is doom and gloom. Now, what else should you be saying to Anna?"

"Can you just give us a moment alone?" As Rapunzel took a step back, arms crossed and foot tapping on the ground, Elsa approached her again. She didn't kneel down, or bend in any way to speak to her, only dipped her head. Anna appreciated it. Just this once, they felt more like equals, rather than Elsa being strong and herself being…an invalid. "Anna, I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said, I was just…concerned."

"It's fine. It's true, anyway. I can't take care of myself anymore."

"No, Anna, I'm so, so sorry."

"It's fine."

"It's not fine. It was unfair of me, and—don't take it to heart, please." Elsa gripped her hand, and Anna wished more than anything that her own hands didn't shake, that she had the same strength as Elsa. "You're still fighting despite everything that's happened, and I should respect that instead of…not. It's part of who you are to trust, and I love that about you, truly. I just…I know this sounds odd, but I don't trust magic, sometimes. It's ruined so much already. But…I trust you. More than anything or anyone. Please promise me that you'll have faith in yourself too, Anna."

"I-I can't make that promise," Anna said.

Elsa leaned forward and hugged her tight. "Please promise me that you'll keep trying, then."

"I will," Anna said, and the embrace warmed her now, rather than the cold that Elsa used to always radiate. "And I'm not mad, I understand. I was reckless too, I still can't get it through my head that not everything will turn out all right. Let's just keep going? It's a beautiful day. Let's not waste it."

"All right—"

"Frankfurters! Get some fresh, ripe, juicy frankfurters now, accompanied by my very own super special secret sauce! Trust me, this is one breakfast delicacy that you don't want to miss out on!"

Anna looked up at the ridiculously loud call, and pushing a food cart down the road was a rugged man sporting the smartest of grins. As if his stubble and disheveled hair weren't enough, his devil-may-care attitude was completed by what Anna swore was a twinkle in his eye. With an air of someone who had done this a million times before, he plopped down his cart in front of them and postured, knees bent, arms outstretched and fingers pointing to the sky—the picture of intellectual poverty.

"Can't you see that they were having a moment?" Rapunzel stormed over and scowled at the man, but his grin didn't falter for even a second. If anything, his grin _widened_.

"Name's Flynn Ryder, and I gotta say, I think this moment would be a lot better if there were some frankfurters involved, if you catch my drift—"

Rapunzel grabbed his shoulders, whirled him around, and pushed him and his cart along, ignoring his weak protests. Anna watched bemusedly as she yelled back, "You two have fun on your own!"

Elsa raised an eyebrow.

"Well, that was…unexpected."

"Let's get going, then," Anna said, smiling, when Elsa took her hand.

* * *

"I don't want any frankfurters."

"Does that mean you _do_?"

" _No_ ," Rapunzel hissed.

Flynn paused, looking so put out that even Rapunzel started feeling guilty—despite being hounded about sausages for the past fifteen minutes as they very slowly made their way into and through town. Flynn seemed determined to stick by her side. Her pity didn't last long, though. Flynn cleared his throat and the jaunty smile was back, with a horrendously powerful wink for good measure.

"Listen, I'll even tell you something secret to sweeten the deal," Flynn said, leaning in and voice lowering into a whisper. "If you buy today, you could win an exclusive, all-expenses-paid trip to Arendelle! Just fill out a form with your name, contact information—"

"Whoa! Look over there!"

"Huh?"

As soon as Flynn swung his head around to look where she had pointed, Rapunzel ducked behind a passing cart and used it to shield her escape. She looked back, once, and bit her hand to muffle her laughter; Flynn looked flabbergasted by her disappearance, mouth hanging open and hands rubbing his eyes. Then he started saying something about her being an angry spirit that had most likely cursed him.

Honestly, she probably would have if she could.

After escaping the company of the strange, if friendly and fairly good-looking Flynn Ryder, Rapunzel stretched and prepared to wander the day markets on her own. It wasn't often that she could do so. Her parents didn't keep her imprisoned by any means, but perhaps they were too accustomed to her being in poor health to feel at ease. Or perhaps it was Chryssa's disappearance that set them so on edge. It certainly drained them; Rapunzel could no longer count the number of white hairs on both her parents' heads.

Resolving to enjoy the day, Rapunzel entered a café by the docks. It was a homely place, warm with the smell of chocolates and brewing coffee and tea, but it had never been too popular until a few months ago, when they introduced a new drink that even Rapunzel fell in love with instantly. Compared to the old lull, the shop's business had boomed into a bustle that turned seats into a valuable commodity. Luckily, Rapunzel came here often enough that the owners recognized her and seated her at the first opportunity. She had scarcely sat down before a steaming cup was placed on her table.

"Still won't tell me the recipe?" Rapunzel asked, cradling the cup in her hands. "Or at least the name of whoever came up with this. Give me something to work with, please?"

"It's a secret, Your Highn—"

Rapunzel hissed, putting one finger to her lips, and the server quieted. No one had heard, but that had been close. She patted the girl on the arm, telling her that it was no harm done, and she was left alone to savor her drink.

It was, Rapunzel thought while looking out to the ocean, only hot chocolate. But there was something special about it, some trick to the recipe or some spice that made it…different. Rapunzel sipped on the warm drink, letting each mouthful roll over her tongue before she swallowed. She took every opportunity to come here. Before it had been for the view, and now, it was for this drink.

 _"Hey, Punzie! Try this, I made it just now. Maaaaaaybe it'll help you feel better!"_

It was somehow nostalgic.

She sat at the barstools on one end of the shop, which gave a perfect view of the docks and lighthouse. There were strong waves today; Rapunzel watched the water splash up the wooden boards and even the taller stones, darkening their surface before rolling back, over and over again. Seagulls, too. Rapunzel ordered a basket of bread and absentmindedly picked off small bits, throwing the morsels out for the birds to enjoy. She was thrown out of her reverie when she heard the owner's voice.

"Oh, Sol! I wasn't expecting—"

Rapunzel barely understood what was happening, but the sound of footsteps charging towards her made her turn back, just in time to see a brunette seize her around the waist.

"What are you—?!"

It hurt when she was dragged out of her seat, and Rapunzel flailed with all her might. She felt her hand strike the girl, multiple times, but the brunette was never dissuaded from whatever it was that she thought she was doing. Instead, she pinned Rapunzel's arms, locked her own arm around her neck to secure her head, and barreled out of the shop.

Vaguely, Rapunzel saw that the girl had wide, brown eyes, and that they were positively _terrified._ There was a brief moment where Rapunzel wondered what might have scared her so much, and then—

An explosion followed from behind.

They were still close enough that Rapunzel felt the molten, scalding heat fan over her skin, and then the sheer force of it rocketed both her and the brunette away from the shop. Over the din of a clamorous ringing in her skull, over even the jarring sensation of her bones vibrating within her body, Rapunzel realized the other girl was shielding her with her own body. Even when they struck the ground, it was the other girl who took the brunt of the fall. She cradled Rapunzel within her embrace, and together, they skidded back on the hard pavement, until at last, the impact flung them apart.

Rapunzel remained on the ground, while the brunette was thrown into the open ocean.

There was screaming and rushed footsteps and the crackle of fire, and for a moment that was all Rapunzel's world consisted of, along with the terrible pain that screamed through her bruised and battered body. She was dazed, disoriented, feeling so ill she thought she might throw up at any moment, but she still knew one thing.

Whoever that girl was, she had saved her life.

Rapunzel forced herself up on her arms, wincing from the torn skin on both, but the blood that drenched the stones wasn't hers. She shook her head, desperate to throw off the screech that scrambled her thoughts. She could still feel the heat, could hear the roaring of the flames behind her from the shop that had been set ablaze, could begin to see a crowd growing as they rushed to the scene, but—none of that mattered right now.

Rapunzel ran towards the docks and dove into the water, intent on rescuing her savior.

* * *

Sol couldn't see anything.

As she drifted alone within the water, she wondered if maybe this was for the best. She had never been afraid of death, only an undignified one, one without purpose. She closed her eyes, content to rest, content to escape the shambolic mess that her increasingly muddled thoughts had become. It was chaos within her mind. Stray thoughts and impulses. Senseless, reckless compulsions. She didn't even know what she was doing, sometimes…

But this time she was _sure_ she was doing something right.

Sol opened her eyes when she felt the water move.

As the ripples cleared, she vaguely realized that the light was being blocked. Nothing should block the light. It was something that would have irked her at any other time, but at that moment she was only curious, and in the next…confused. There were bubbles. There was someone coming. There was…

There was a hand outstretched for her.

Someone was reaching out for…her?

She remembered only ever being abandoned. Discarded, like trash. Maybe she was hallucinating. That would make sense, even if it was pathetic. No, not hallucinating. If she were, she probably would have envisioned something much more horrific. Why was this person reaching out, then? Who would care?

How weird…

She wanted very much to live and find out.

Sol reached up and took their hand.

* * *

"Are you all right?"

Rapunzel helped the brunette sit up, bracing her shoulders rather than her back. Her shirt was torn, no doubt from when they skid on the ground during their fall, and behind the tattered cloth the skin on her back had been ripped off almost entirely; Rapunzel hissed through her teeth when she saw, but that wasn't even the worst injury. On the side of her head was a deep gash nearly three inches long, spilling dark blood that matted her hair down and rolled down her cheek. Rapunzel searched the brunette's face for any sign that she had understood or even heard her words, but the girl was only staring at her with widened eyes, mouth slightly ajar as though she couldn't quite believe what was happening.

"What's your name?" Rapunzel tried again.

"…Sol."

Rapunzel grinned, relieved that she could manage to respond at all. It had crossed her mind that maybe the girl had been struck too hard in the head. "Nice to meet you, Sol. I'm Rapunzel."

"…I know."

It was a strange answer, but Rapunzel didn't think much on it. She pressed her hand to Sol's temple, smiling in apology when she winced. "Sorry, but you're bleeding, and I don't know what else to do."

Help had finally arrived to put out the fire, and some men thankfully wrapped them both in blankets. Rapunzel had barely noticed the cold, too worried about Sol to care, but Sol definitely needed it—though she winced the moment the cloth touched her torn back. Rapunzel snatched the blanket away and adjusted it to drape her from the front instead.

"Can someone please get a doctor?" Rapunzel called to the crowd. "Sol's injured—"

"You saved me."

Sol was staring at her again.

"Well, you saved me too," Rapunzel said, fidgeting under the intense gaze. Questioning, but…more. As though Rapunzel held the only answers that mattered. As though Sol were trying to peer into her heart and soul, grasping for a lifeline only she could provide. "It just seemed like…the right thing to do."

Slowly, Sol nodded her head.

"…Thank you."

Sol grinned, and suddenly she looked like a different person from the solemn creature whose thousand-mile stare had so unnerved her only a moment ago. Save for the blood still marring her face, she could have been anyone. Just an ordinary person who had saved her life. Rapunzel smiled back.

"I'm not gonna need a doctor though," Sol said. "Do you mind stepping away for a second?"

Rapunzel was still thrown enough that she did not argue. She moved back and watched, befuddled, as Sol shifted to sit with her legs crossed and traced an arc in the air with one finger. It looked like such an odd thing to do, until Rapunzel noticed—an arc of golden light drew over Sol, and then the gold spilled downwards in both directions to form a transparent dome. Sol clasped her hands together as though in prayer, and Rapunzel witnessed the healing with awe. Her torn back mended over with new skin, as though time had fast-forwarded. Her head wound closed itself without leaving the slightest mark.

"How…?" Rapunzel closed her mouth, not realizing it had fallen open until Sol looked at her with laughter evident in her eyes. "Wait, your name…and the magic…Anna told me about you!"

"Mmm." Sol waved her hand and the dome vanished. She rose to her feet, stretching as though she had only lightly exerted herself. "Seems like I'm meeting all sorts of new people lately!"

"I could say the same," Rapunzel said. She turned around, back to the site of the explosion, and her heart clenched at how many people must have died. It was likely that she was the only survivor. Rescue efforts were still continuing, and the fire had died down at last, but…

Rapunzel walked closer to the old café, covering her mouth to avoid the fumes. It was lucky that the Captain of the Guard was there or she might have been mistaken for a civilian and not been allowed to, though she winced when he gave her a heavy stare—her parents would know all about this soon.

Sol caught her arm from behind, and Rapunzel looked back.

"Are you sure you want to—"

Rapunzel pulled away, gently. "I have to see."

She continued on and peered into the smoking wreckage, its charred, splintered wood resembling the broken ramparts of a conquered fort. Grasping hands of wire swung to and fro within the dark abyss, suspended from the ceiling beams that had survived. Broken glass littered the ground, melted and fused into molten stone. But worst of all were the bodies. Burned, blackened, their skin pockmarked with blisters and faces unrecognizable; Rapunzel held back a wretch from the stench, but nothing could stop the tears from escaping her eyes. Another moment later and she would have been…this.

It was humbling and terrifying both.

Rapunzel stood and watched for a while as the rescue workers excavated the bodies, and as the building began to empty, that was when she noticed. On the floor was burned a mark, too clear and too distinct to have been coincidence. It was an insignia.

A black phoenix, burning wings outstretched and beak opened as though to let loose a shrill cry.

"Always so dramatic," Sol sighed.

"Do you…know who did this?" Rapunzel asked.

"Mhm." Sol pointed to the insignia emblazoned on the ground, solid black even when the ash had been cleaned away. "It's their trademark. Rising from the ashes and all that. Something about new beginnings. Taranis really likes to hold grudges."

She had no idea what Sol was going on about, and Sol seemed to know that, too. "How _did_ you know there was going to be an explosion?" Rapunzel asked.

But when she turned around, Sol had disappeared. Rapunzel whirled in place, trying to catch a glimpse of where she could have gone, but there was no trace anywhere of the girl. Even when she ran back outside, no one could tell her where Sol had gone. Rapunzel scanned the crowd still gathered outside the café, looking for brown hair and golden eyes, but—nothing. She saw _Flynn Ryder_ of all people, standing there looking uncharacteristically grim, but Sol was missing.

 _Where could she have gone?_

* * *

Her head hurt a little, but Anna was determined not to waste the day.

She had felt that aching pain even since last night, but it had been worse, then, while she was sleeping. Bad enough that she could only manage brief lapses of sleep plagued by fitful nightmares, and she would wake, fall back into the same dreams. Her headache had died down somewhat into an ember of dark heat that flickered in her temple; present, but small enough to be ignored. Every now and then, Anna would rub at her temples in hopes of dispersing that remnant. Hopefully Elsa wouldn't notice.

First they visited the library. Compared to her tense demeanor when confronted with Judus, King Friderich, even the crowd of commoners they passed on the way there, Elsa seemed much more at home within the quiet confines of bookshelves. Anna had expected this, and she understood the sentiment. It was peaceful here. It was a monolithic library, with tall spires and stained glass windows and multiple floors, but the inside was still homey; plain wooden floors and comfortable couches were on every floor, with private rooms for those who desired more privacy.

Elsa then showed her maps of the surrounding area, and once again, Anna was surprised by her knowledge. Corona was closer to the Southern Isles than she had thought, and, Elsa explained, maps typically omitted the narrow land bridge that connected the two kingdoms. She had actually traveled a longer route around, Anna realized, taken days more than necessary, to give her more time to rest.

"What do you like to read, Anna?" Elsa asked.

"Fiction novels, mostly." Anna laughed, remembering how ridiculous she had been. "Actually, I remember when I first got to the Southern Isles and was expecting stuff out of novels. Do you remember that first room you set up for me? I was checking for trap doors and hidden switches."

"You read a lot, then."

"I didn't have much else to do!" Anna huffed. "You know I didn't get to leave the castle. So…I could only read and pretend like I was visiting other places. And then I'd act out stories in the garden! Be the brave knight, fight off the evil dragons, you know."

Next they headed to the market square, and though Anna had explored the previous day, there were new sights already. Trinkets, of course, beads and bracelets and necklaces, and Anna would have been tempted to buy one for Elsa if only she could find one that was perfect. No such luck. Maybe she would try making one herself. There was an abundance of seafood available; Anna saw shops selling salmon and cod and halibut, oysters and mussels and clams, prepared in every way, even raw. More strangely…

"Do you know anything about this man?"

Anna watched in consternation as a girl went from stall to stall, holding up a wanted poster with the image of a man with braided hair and a golden masquerade ball mask. Taranis, the poster said. But judging from the reactions of the common folk, Anna guessed, this girl with the poster was not well-liked. Feared, even, despite likely being younger than Anna. People were quick to say no to her questions, were relieved when she moved on, and wherever she went she was followed by distrustful gazes. She was pretty enough, her navy black hair pulled into a ponytail that accentuated her white coat, but her expression was an ugly one. Her head was held too high, her sharp features too haughty. Worse, her hand inched too close to the sword at her hip.

"Do you know anything?"

"No! No, I don't know—"

"You didn't even look at the picture," said the girl, and she seized the man by his collar and dragged him close. "Are you trying to fool me? Well? Don't waste my time." She shoved him away, hard enough that he crashed into his own stall and overturned it, spilling his produce to the ground.

"Gwen!"

Another white-coated boy rushed to the scene, shouldering his way through the growing crowd to get to the girl. Helping the stall-owner to his feet and uttering a quick apology, he then whirled around to the girl and took her by the arm. Gwen hissed, trying to yank her arm free, but the boy's grip was strong.

"Let go of me—!"

"We're leaving before this becomes another case! Do you _want_ Sir Lazarus to punish you? Come on."

Anna watched as the two left, leaving behind a crowd of agitated commoners who were murmuring about the Order of the Rose. So that was why their coat had seemed so familiar. Judus had been wearing the same one, a white coat embroidered with a golden rose. Anna wheeled herself to the vendor who had been thrown to the ground, and helped him gather his scattered merchandise.

"Are you all right, sir?" Anna asked.

"Y-Yes, thank you." Rearranging his stall, he breathed a heavy sigh. "It's not uncommon for the Order to stir up trouble, but Gwen is a nasty piece of work. Peacekeepers. What a joke."

Elsa was silent.

Anna suggested that they leave, and Elsa bore them away. It had been a mood dampener to see that. Anna wanted to believe the best of the Order, especially since Rapunzel was learning from them, but just once she wished that things could be…simple. Just like the old novels she used to read, with the hero and the villain, the knight and the dragon. Her headache was returning.

"Is there anywhere else you want to go?" Elsa asked.

"I guess we could just…wander."

Eventually, they came to the clock tower that stood in the center of town. There was no way up that didn't involve stairs; fortunately, no one seemed particularly inclined to go up at this time of day, and Elsa was free to lock the door behind them so no one would see. Once that was done, she waved her hand and a layer of ice flowed over the staircase, forming a moving ramp that bore Anna up to the top.

Anna could only manage a quiet gasp at the exhilarating view.

Up here she could see the entirety of the town, the movement of the entirety of its people, like an ever-running current flowing throughout the city. Up here, every individual person melted away into something greater than the sum of its parts, something larger at work than mere human machinations…

As the hour struck and the clock resounded with its booming call, something reverberated in Anna, too.

"What's wrong?" Elsa asked sharply, but Anna had fallen from her wheelchair to lay prone on the floor, hands clutching both sides of her head.

It felt like something was trying to force its way out of her body, out of her skull and through her eyes, her mouth. Her skull felt like it might split in two, assaulted by an enormous pounding that she felt even in her eardrums. Some part of Anna, isolated from the pain to stay sane, wondered if she might die. She could not imagine living through this molten pain, like hot coals were boiling through her thoughts, like parasites were burrowing through her brain. Anna thought she saw flashes of something through the darkness that overtook her vision, something like a golden flower, or maybe a mirror, the petals scattered, the pieces shattered, and then—then—

She was taken by the darkness.

* * *

They were only headaches, Elsa said.

Elsa didn't believe those words even herself, but she hardly knew how else to reassure Anna; how else to reassure herself. Whatever that attack had been, she was relieved that it never resurfaced with the same intensity. For one terrifying moment, Anna had actually stopped breathing. No doctor could tell her what was wrong with Anna. She suffered through the rest of the week, writhing in pain and her body so feverish that the heat emanated from her body like poison.

"Is Anna going to be all right?" Rapunzel had asked.

Elsa hadn't bothered to pick herself up from the floor where she sat, slumped against the wall just outside Anna's room. "I don't know," she said, despite wanting desperately to say otherwise.

"…Oh." Rapunzel lingered for a moment longer before she knelt, squeezed her hand, and left without another word.

Elsa had appreciated the gesture.

Corona was no longer as safe as she once believed. Days ago, Hans had already informed her about the Red Tempest. Apparently Alek had been injured but was still alive; Elsa had not bothered to learn more, too distressed by the news that shadow magic was once again appearing. Outside of the Southern Isles family, no less, whose blood held the residual magic of the Mirror. Either there were three _other_ people, all descended from the _other_ olden handlers of the Mirror, or…

Edmund.

Elsa found it difficult to believe that he had anything to do with these incidents, that he was controlling events even beyond the grave, but she had never truly known her foster brother at all.

Regardless, it was more than likely that Brennus was involved with the explosion that had nearly killed Rapunzel; but according to Friderich, the man named Taranis had been stirring up trouble long before. Throughout the next few days, there were more and more incidents—at the library, the clock tower. Serglige was spreading as well. Every day there were more reports of the illness overtaking civilians, sending them into a spiraling madness—and then they left. People vanished, one by one. Everything had gone to hell, and there was nothing she could do.

Such did the week pass.

* * *

It was a beautiful sight.

Anna didn't know where she was, but the thought didn't concern her as much as it should have. She didn't even remember where she had been, or what she had been doing before. It didn't seem to matter now. She had simply opened her eyes to an unbroken plain of snow, pure and undisturbed. None fell from the skies, leaving only a perfect expanse that went on as far as the eye could see. As she rose to her feet, though, the landscape shifted. Where there had been nothing there now stood a castle, tall, proud, and she stood not in the open, but within the courtyard.

She did not question.

Anna crossed to the center of the courtyard and sat at the edge of the fountain there, running her hands through the clear water held in its basin. It was not cold. She allowed the water to settle, and looked down into her reflection. Her face was as it had been, unburdened, unlined, eyes wide with wonder and lips set into a content smile. A very long time passed while she stayed there, staring and blinking at herself, for this was a face she barely recognized but missed dearly.

All at once, though, there was rain.

Anna raised her head. She had not noticed when, but the white sky was now grey with stormclouds and sudden wind whipped the rain into frenzy. Something was wrong about the rain. As droplets struck her cheek, she could smell it; the familiar tang of copper…the taste of blood. Anna sprang to her feet and rubbed at her skin, but the rain, the blackened blood, clung to her hands and marred her face. It only smeared across her skin like great tracts of tar and oil. She would never be able to get it off.

Even the fountain now came to life, its tranquil waters dyed black and the sludge overflowing. Anna stumbled away with a cry, tripping over the hem of her cloak. She struck the snow on her back, raised her hands to shield her face from the rain. Through her blurring vision, she saw _something_ forming from the dark waters, vaguely human, hands grasping for her legs, blind eyes peering into her mind.

 ** _Have you forgotten me?_**

Anna pushed off the ground and ran for the castle.

She did not know these hallways but moved on instinct alone, each step guided by sudden decision that was not hers. She could hardly breathe. Around the corridor she ran, then down the long hall, hearing a quiet moan and the patter of feet following behind. She did not dare look back. Dark liquid dripped down from the ceiling with a rhythmic thud like a heartbeat, gushed through the walls and climbed, always, always following. Anna kept running. She didn't dare stop.

Doors disappeared. She could not escape. Paths vanished. Anna kept running where she could, head spinning with breathless terror and eyes flitting to and fro for the next route. Until there was only one hallway left, and she saw one last door at its end. She had no choice. She ran.

 ** _Where are you going?_**

She went through the door.

Slammed it shut.

Anna told herself that she was safe here, and it was true that all the motion ceased. All the world calmed. Everything was as still as it had been at the beginning. There was no light in this room, only comforting night, so black that she could see nothing but the unbroken darkness. Anna released a shuddering breath, sliding down against the closed door. She was safe. Wherever this was, she was safe.

And then the candles lit, one by one, and the aisles were illuminated, so that Anna saw the intertwined angel and dragon at the end of the hall and knew exactly where she was.

It was the chapel.

She was not alone.

 ** _Do you remember me now?_**

An armored figure was kneeling at the base of the statue, and he, or she, or it, stood and turned around. On their face was the skull-mask, painted with the cross of blood, and they beckoned with one hand.

 ** _Come here…Anna._**

She did.

She could not disobey.

Shadows spread from the figure's feet and diffused outwards, wrapping around them both, searing her skin with its dark warmth. Sparks flickered through the air, blinking like stars before winking out, leaving the acrid stench of burning hair. A dark heart pulsed in the whirlwind. She could see the diseased _thing_ beating, bloating outwards and contracting, again, again; could hear the labored breath gasping its throes, again, again. Anna stood paralyzed when the figure took off their mask, slowly, deliberately. She knew that face just as she knew that voice, cruel and saturated with saccharine delight.

Her own.

 ** _Anna is_** **my** ** _name._**

She, the Other-Anna, dissolved into the shadows too. It lunged for her just as the web constricted, seizing her arms and legs and dragging her off the ground. Her limbs were yanked back until the flesh tore; her entire body was bent so far that her spine snapped. Darkness flooded over her face, bled into her eyes, her nose, her mouth. She tried to scream and it only rushed down her throat, muffling her voice and choking in her lungs. Anna remembered this, remembered that vile touch which infiltrated her body and mind. It was happening again. She was going to lose control again—

Anna woke.

She jolted upward, breathing harsh and uneven, hands locked tight around her blankets. It was…just a dream. Elsa was still asleep at her side. They were in Corona. Anna swallowed her retch, fighting the urge to vomit. It had been a dream. She still did not dare close her eyes, lest she return to that place. After an eternity of listening to the rhythm of Elsa breathing, Anna allowed herself to relax her grip. Just a dream. Just a dream. Just-

There were burn marks on the blankets.

Slowly, Anna turned over one shaking hand. Wisps of dark flame flickered in her palm, and bled away into nothing.

 ** _I am always here._**


	6. Darkness Visible

**Chapter 6: Darkness Visible**

 ** _I am always here._**

Her head felt hot. It was somewhere _inside_ , a hot coal – no, a parasite, a worm, squirming within the soft tissues of her brain. Anna felt hot and feverish but stronger than she had in months. Desperation lent strength to her limbs and she half-stumbled, half-flailed, falling out of bed and almost managing to stand for one brief moment; then her legs gave out and she collapsed once more, her ragged breaths breaking into a dull, asthmatic wheeze. Through the darkness of night and the haze marring her vision, her gaze went to the wheelchair lying at the corner of the room. Without conscious thought she crawled to it. Swung her arm up so she could reach, dug her fingers into the seat to drag herself up. She was out the door within seconds.

 _I need to leave. I need to get out of here before I hurt anyone, before I hurt her again—_

Anna pushed past the castle doors and exited to the courtyard, feeling the night air but somehow not registering its chill. She could tell it was cold. She could only feel that dark heat throbbing inside her brain, pulsing like an erupted artery. Her hands moved on instinct, wheeling her farther and farther away from the castle and away from _Elsa_. As long as she put distance between them, then Elsa would be safe. She couldn't hurt her as long as she stayed away, couldn't rip her heart out, couldn't burn her skin, couldn't strike her ship with lightning and leave her to die.

 _I need to leave._

Where was she headed? Anna found herself in the marketplace, deserted at this time of night, and she kept moving. At the sight of the docks, she briefly considered pitching herself off the edge; with her legs disabled and no one else around, she would surely drown. If she were dead, then she couldn't hurt anyone. It would be so easy…

But there _was_ someone else, standing so perfectly still that they could be one of the stone gargoyles at the castle, and the moonlight glinted off their metal face—

 _It's that mask._

Anna had felt fear but she hadn't known _terror_ until she saw that mask again, so cruelly curved and tainted with red. For a moment she was certain that her heart stopped. She was certain that she would die, but then her heart redoubled its efforts as though it couldn't bear to part with life even as she craved sweet release. Anna sat still, gripping her wheelchair with shaking hands as she watched that figure standing at the docks.

"Wh…Who are you?" Anna asked.

Even the way they cocked their head to side was reminiscent of _him_ , and Anna flinched. It resembled _herself_ too, at one point, and for a moment she imagined it was her face under that mask. Just like her dream.

When the person spoke, it was a female voice. "You are our sister and our prophet," she said. "I'm here to bring you home. I'm here so you can finish what you started."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about." When the masked woman took a step forward, Anna pressed her back into her seat. "Please. St-Stay away. I don't want to hurt you too, please, just stay back—"

"You can't hurt me."

"Yes, I can, I hurt people without even realizing," Anna said, as her heart beat ever faster and the heat in her head grew into a roaring flame. "I've hurt people before—"

"You can't hurt me," the woman said again, and this time, she outstretched her hand, palm up. Dark fire curled around her fingers like a snake, spitting purple sparks into the night. "Come with me. Now, Anna."

And Anna snapped.

She screamed, and as the heat built to a crescendo, as her arms flew from the sides of her wheelchair to hide her face, fire erupted from her hands. Anna was pushed back from the force of her own magic – _not hers, never hers_ – and vaguely heard the other woman release a low grunt of surprise before she reached out and caught the fire in her own hands. She struggled briefly as the arc of flame pushed against her grip. Her heel dug into the ground, and _still_ she inched towards the edge of the water. Anna wondered if she should run. Yes, she decided, but her body wouldn't move. She stayed and watched as the masked woman struggled. Just before she would fall, she thrust her arms skyward and the fire followed suit, puttering out into the air like smoke. Her sleeves were ruined, and her skin was burned a mottled red and yellow; but before Anna's eyes, the wounds began to heal.

"Who are you?" Anna cried.

"You're going to come with me."

Anna had no strength left in her to resist, and she did nothing as the masked woman approached, seemingly unangered by her attack. She didn't bother to wipe the tears from her face, though she doubted she could have even if she were so inclined; her limbs felt limp. Whatever had been in her head had dissipated, and in the vacuum was left a withering cold. She did nothing as the woman at last stood inches away from her, hand outstretched.

But the woman snatched her hand back as a sword cut through the empty space she had left behind, and Anna felt herself yanked backwards to be greeted by a familiar face. It felt like something out of a dream. Everything was happening too fast. Was this even real…?

"I'll take care of this," Alek said, and Anna had no time to even process his appearance before he turned to the masked woman, practically snarling as he drew a second sword shorter than the first in his offhand. "Morgan. You stay the hell away from Anna."

"Here for a rematch?" asked the masked woman – Morgan – and her voice at last broke from its cool monotone. Amusement. Dismissal. She crouched, hand flying to the sword at her side, but the battle that Anna feared would break out never did. Instead Morgan perked up her head, as though she was listening to something, and almost reluctantly, she straightened. "Another time. Be glad that I'm leaving—Aidan wouldn't have been here to save you again." Alek rushed forward just in time to swing his sword for her head, but Morgan leapt backwards and, figure half-melted into shadows, swept away.

Alek cursed and made to pursue, but at Anna's quiet murmur of his name he turned back. His face froze. It was like he was seeing her for the first time.

"…Thanks," Anna said.

"…Yeah."

Anna, not quite looking directly at Alek, wouldn't know that he was avoiding her gaze as well. She belatedly realized that this was her first meeting with him since…since she had warped his mind and set him loose like a rabid dog. Her last real memory of him was his frozen statue, then his manic eyes as her magic violated his mind and soul. Even after he was freed and she was once again Anna, they had never spoken. It made sense that Alek wouldn't want to see her again.

"Anna!"

Elsa. Anna didn't need to turn to know that was Elsa running towards them, and she wanted to hide, to shrink away to nothing. It wasn't safe. Elsa wasn't safe. She needed to go. She needed to get as far away from her as possible.

"Where the hell were you just now?" Alek spat.

Elsa unwittingly glanced at her for a fraction of a second only, but Anna knew what she had done. She'd unconsciously bound Elsa with dark magic before she left. It was the only reason she had managed to leave at all. It was happening again. No, it had already happened. She had managed to hurt Elsa, again.

"And why are you here?"

"I left the Southern Isles as soon as I could," Alek said. "And then—"

"It doesn't matter." Elsa shoved him out of the way, and as she approached, Anna wished more than anything that she would stay away. Maybe it showed on her face. "Anna, what's wrong?"

"D-Don't…get any closer." Anna tried taking deep breaths. Instead they were shallow, quick, and she exhaled more air than she breathed. "I'm just – I'm going to – You need to stay away from me, please—"

"You didn't hurt me," Elsa said, as gently as she could, and Anna could appreciate the sentiment but she could also hear the panic edging into her voice, and she couldn't— She couldn't breathe.

"Magic—I have it—I don't know why, I want to get rid of it, Elsa—"

"Okay," Elsa said. "Okay, Anna. Okay. I understand, I know."

"Sol." Yes. She could go to Sol. Sol could heal her and fix all this, this mess. Anna seized Elsa by the arms. "Elsa, I need to go to Sol. She can help me. She has to help me, Elsa. Oh God, I need, I need help."

"Okay. I'll take you there, but Anna, please, you need to breathe." Elsa looked her in the eyes, and Anna could only see the deep blue depths. She gripped her tightly enough that it ought to hurt, but Elsa said nothing about pain. "Just breathe. Everything will be all right."

"Don't say that. You don't know that, don't, don't say—"

"Anna, Anna. Breathe. You're still here. I'm still here."

Anna could feel Alek watching, and she was embarrassed beyond words. She could already imagine his stricken expression. Maybe he would pity her, or maybe he would find her disgusting. She didn't dare to think about it. She just breathed. Like her life depended on it, and maybe it did, she breathed.

In.

Out.

"Tell me how to get to this Sol, and I'll guide you there," Elsa murmured. She turned to Alek. "Head to the castle and let them know. And…thank you."

Alek hesitated for only a moment before he nodded.

Elsa rose and took the handles of her wheelchair, and Anna closed her eyes as they began to move.

It was a disturbing thought that she would need to open them again.

* * *

"Why did you call me back?"

Brennus didn't respond. Morgan tore off her mask and flung it aside, dragging her hand through her hair as she began to pace the complex. It was a small, wretched place, but it was their base of operations for now. Rather stereotypical, if he had to judge. It was just the place to be a lair for outcast revolutionaries. All stained concrete and darkness, abandoned, out in the woods; but practical enough. Mani adored it anyhow, the way children claimed a hiding spot and loved it as their fortress.

Speaking of Mani…

She was sitting on the rooftop, her legs swinging back and forth over the ledge, and Taranis stood behind her as he often did, her silent sentinel. Taranis had been with her since she found them again, though Brennus knew nothing about where she had been, how she had met her guardian. Neither could he could make any presumption about what lay beneath her guise—the bandages that wrapped around her entire person, the tattered cloak that shrouded her even further. Brennus _did_ remember the eleven-year-old brat from the orphanage. Bright-eyed, intelligent, talkative. Now she was a waif-like creature imprisoned in grey, purgatorial dress.

"Well, Brennus?" Morgan demanded.

Up on the roof, Mani was busily scribbling on a notepad, and Brennus motioned with his head for Morgan to look. Mani turned the notepad around, and scrawled in a childish hand was the message: **_Elsa was coming. Unsafe. I'd prefer if you didn't die! Yet. Heehee, just kidding, Morgan._**

"I could have—"

"You couldn't have defeated Elsa," Brennus said. "None of us can. We'll have to bide our time for now."

"Know your place, girl," Taranis said, and Brennus gripped Morgan's arm to keep her from attacking him. It wouldn't end well. For Morgan. "I didn't take time to train you just so you could die."

That was what he said, but Brennus knew that Taranis wouldn't care if any one of them died. Save for Mani, he had no regard for anyone else. But to Brennus, Morgan was family. Morgan, Ayden, and Mani. Everyone from the orphanage. Even those who weren't with them anymore. They were always in his thoughts. They had earned that place when they saw the ropey scars that adorned his body – the angry streaks on his back and chest from a whip, the now-faded line across his cheek from a bottle thrown at his face – and they had not fled. They hadn't called him a monster like he believed himself to be, a patchwork of broken bones and torn skin knit together again. With them, he had found a home.

Mani leapt off the roof in a pirouette and landed in a bow, raising her arms and pivoting on her heel this way and that, like she was performing for an audience. She giggled soundlessly and then pranced towards the fields, picking at the flowers and weeds that grew around the complex. When she grew bored of her sport, she stomped through the rest and kicked them out in heavy plumes of dirt and roots.

Morgan watched for a while before she shook her head. "What are the others doing, exactly?"

"Just concentrate on Anna," Brennus said.

Taranis was acting on his own without regard for their goals, attacking locales at random, hurting innocent people, all for the sake of baiting out the Order; but Brennus had expected this recklessness from him. Compared to the rest of them, Taranis was not devoted to their goddess; Taranis was a tormented creature, scarred in mind and soul, and he only wanted revenge to soothe the sting of his wounds. It was such a small, petty cause that Brennus pitied him. But he, too, was doing his part, just as everyone was fighting for a better future. Brennus believed that the day would soon come that they became one with their god, the divine creature that now nestled in their hearts.

He could feel that dark heart pulsing inside him even now, flooding him with miasmic heat.

Then—

Howls erupted inside the building.

"Someone shut that thing up," Morgan said.

Mani perked up, scrawling in the air with her finger this time, and shadows bled into a message.

 ** _Oh, don't be mean. I'm sure he'll be helpful, once I break him in a little more. My own little pet! I've always wanted one._**

She ambled inside the complex. Despite the cheeriness of the tune she hummed under her breath, her eyes had narrowed into cruel, reptilian slits. Before long the screams intensified, raw, throaty shrieks intermingled with the wet noises of tearing flesh and cracking bones—before they muffled, ceased entirely.

It was, admittedly, inhumane. Brennus knew that Ayden felt the same way, and the boy had beseeched Mani on multiple occasions to put that…thing…out of its misery. Morgan pretended to only be irritated by the noise, but she was the same way. Eira didn't care enough to even have an opinion about it all. Taranis seemed calmly satisfied and viewed the whole affair with clinical nonchalance.

But Mani was the only one to derive pleasure out of torturing it.

She was very different from the talkative little girl he had known, and Brennus wondered what had happened to her in the years of her disappearance. Even before the attack on Corona, Mani had vanished from the orphanage. Six years later she had resurfaced, completely bandaged, mute, and Brennus could hardly recognize her as the same person. But then, maybe none of them were recognizable anymore. In rare moments of lucidity, he knew he had changed too. Did it really matter, though? As long as he was given the power to protect his family, he could accept change.

He wasn't afraid anymore.

It had been a long time since he was a little boy at the mercy of his parents.

It had been a long time since he would try to beat the fear out of his bones, so he wouldn't be afraid. Punch his hand against the wall, so it would stop shaking. What an idiot he had been. He hadn't been wrong.

At last, Mani stepped out from the complex, blood drenching the bandages on her face and hands. She was carrying needles and thread. She motioned inside, then pointed to her eyes, and next her mouth. As her shoulders shook violently with soundless mirth, the haze left Brennus's mind for one precious second. When the heat fled from his body, he realized he felt horribly, horribly cold.

They were, all of them, broken.

What an imperfect world they lived in.

"…Brennus?"

"I'll tear down this rotten world."

* * *

Elsa barely knew what she was doing.

She felt that she ought to take Anna back to the castle, so she could rest, so she could just stay somewhere safe and lighted and not be outside in the dead of night, but the only way to calm her down had been to promise to take her to Sol. Every step she took felt like a mistake. But then, did she really know any other way to help? Even if she took Anna back, she had no idea what she could do. Maybe this Sol really could do something about this sudden magic. Maybe this would all be over once they arrived. Maybe. Elsa found it difficult to believe in miracles, and she believed even less in this unknown healer who just so happened to run into Anna on the very first day they arrived in Corona.

"We're getting close," Anna said. She still sounded breathless, but she could manage coherent sentences. She still flinched and avoided eye contact, but she could tolerate being in her presence. She wasn't trying to run from her for her sake anymore, and Elsa couldn't ask for any more than that. "It's down that road there, down to the valley."

"All right."

Elsa narrowed her eyes at the immaculate road, the silvery trees. She was sure it was meant to be beautiful, but in the night, the unnaturalness was so poignant that it made her skin crawl. Moonlight glanced off the silver wood and cast a pale white shine on the road like beckoning will-o-wisps. There was little chance these trees were alive, petrified in a state of perfection, growth stunted for fear that they might branch out the wrong way. There wasn't even a hint of wind on what should have been a crisp night, because nothing was permitted to ruin the perfection of the valley, the trees—the garden.

She guided Anna through the garden of flowers and took note of the sculpted valley walls, the deliberate waterways and stone paths. It was perfectly silent, perfectly still. In this blooming, verdant garden, there were no animals to be found. Not a single bee circling the flowers, nor even a single bird nesting in the trees. At the center of the valley, there was the cottage that Anna told her about. Sol's home, Anna had said. Sitting there in the middle of a pond that was more a moat, with only a single stone drawbridge path leading to its doors.

"Wait here," Elsa said, leaving Anna in the midst of the garden as she approached.

Everything was still.

She had barely taken two steps onto the stone path when the stillness exploded to life.

Elsa dropped to a crouch as the ground tremored under her feet, so jarringly powerful that she felt the bones vibrate in her skull and her teeth grind in her jaw. Up ahead, the entire path was rippling like a snake, and it warped in an instant. Thick granite spikes jutted out, completely, eerily silent, the stone shifting like liquid with life of its own. Elsa pushed herself up and leapt backwards once, twice, away from the pursuing stone. She could barely hear Anna yell for her to be careful through the blood pounding in her ears. As soon as she returned to the grassy field, the rose bushes, too, snapped to life. Petals bloomed open to reveal a gaping maw. Vines whipped outward and snared her wrist. Elsa motioned with her free hand, and even as the ice was forming she swung it through the tendrils. She flung away the vine stuck to her wrist, kicked at the still-squirming half that was writhing painfully on the ground.

"Anna, stay back!"

Now the roots were bursting through the earth, thick, knotted things that carved the earth as they grasped for her limbs. Elsa sliced through each one as they came, but they were tireless, inexorable. She was going to need to do something more drastic. Just as she came to that realization, Elsa shot out her hand—and seized the pile of roots. They slammed one after another into her palm, but she did not budge. Her magic surged through the wall of roots and froze them before they could ever hurt her skin; and once they were all trapped she closed her fist in a crushing motion, and the whole mass of entangled roots and vines exploded into fragments of ice.

Just as she was catching her breath, someone burst from the cottage.

Elsa dodged the blow to her face, seized the attacker by their throat, and slammed them to the ground.

Instantly the commotion ended. Stone spears melded into the flat path, vines wound themselves into bushes of flowers. Even the holes in the earth were filled by soil packing itself inwards.

"Elsa!" Anna rushed towards them, and before Elsa could tell her to stay back, she said, "Th-That's Sol."

She looked down at the brunette girl trapped beneath her hand – barely older than a child – but despite her position, Sol did not look afraid. Her eyes were wide, yes, but they met hers directly and were gleaming with _excitement_. Elsa relaxed her hold on her throat. She didn't move her hand away entirely.

"Why did you attack us?" Elsa asked.

"Just you," Sol said, before glancing towards Anna and smiling widely. "Can you really blame me, though? Of course I'll attack the conqueror and enslaver of my kingdom. You _are_ a murderer, Queen Elsa."

Her accusation stung more than it should have, but the truth did that.

"You don't seem particularly angry," Elsa said.

Nor did it feel like Sol had been trying to kill her at all. People had tried to kill her before—Elsa could tell the difference. Certainly not many could come as close to being a threat, but Sol's attempt had felt…

Like she was testing the waters.

"You know…" Sol exhaled a small, shaking laugh that sounded practically rheumatic. Like she was sick, but still laughing through pain. "You really give me such bad vibes. I wonder what Anna sees in you."

"Sol," Anna said. "It's all right. Just…promise not to try that again, and Elsa will let you go, I promise. We didn't come here to hurt you, please. I – I need your help."

Like it was the most natural thing in the world, Sol nodded.

It went against every instinct in her body, but Elsa moved away and let Sol rise to her feet. Even as Sol backed away, gingerly massaging her throat, Elsa kept her gaze trained on her movements. She wasn't a threat. Her powers were impressive, but her motions were untrained; Elsa was confident she could subdue the girl at any time. There was little hint of her magic building into an attack. Her own magic would form an automatic defense if it was necessary. And at this distance, she could strike the girl with lightning before she ever moved from her spot. It was as close to safe as it could be.

So why was she still so on edge?

"I'd invite you two inside, but I think that might not be welcome right this second," Sol said. She was right. Elsa would sooner kill the girl than step foot inside her cottage. "Are you going to tell me why you're here in the middle of the night?"

"It's – I have to explain, I-I didn't tell you who I really was—"

"Princess Anna of Arendelle."

Anna jerked away, like she had been yanked back by thread and needle.

"It's not hard to guess after seeing Queen Elsa," Sol said, smiling again. "But…I knew from the moment I saw you at the marketplace. I hope you don't mind that I didn't say anything, but you can't really blame _me_ when you didn't tell me either, right? You _did_ look really lost, and I wanted to know your story."

"O-Of course."

Elsa kept silent, but she wondered if Anna might have grown suspicious if only she weren't so focused on the possibility of Sol being able to heal her of this…condition.

"I suddenly woke up with these powers," Anna continued, and her voice shook at the admission. "Shadow magic. It's not mine, I shouldn't have this, I just want to get rid of it—"

"Most people would consider themselves blessed to have magic." Sol glanced towards Elsa. "It separates us from the mold. It gives us purpose, you know."

"But I don't want it, this isn't _mine,_ this was _never_ mine," Anna said again. She leaned forward, practically throwing herself off her wheelchair for the sake of being heard, being understood. "Can you – Is there anything you can do? I just want to be normal. I _am_ normal, I've never been—I don't want—I'm not meant to _be_ more. Please. If you can, please, help me get rid of this magic."

"I can't help you."

Just like that, Anna slumped backwards. Like water through a sieve, water through the desert sand, the last dregs of hope drained from her face and left her chalk-white, veinless, bloodless. Elsa wished she had never taken her here. If she could do anything to spare Anna from this moment of her last hope shattering, she would. What could she say now? That everything would be all right. That she would be all right. Anna wouldn't believe those words any more than Elsa believed them.

"Don't give up hope just yet," Sol said. She had sounded mocking when they'd met, then utterly false; but now there was such bone-deep conviction that it startled Elsa. Sol didn't just believe what she was saying. She lived and breathed it like it was her entire world. "I know that light will overcome darkness…that despair can't win against hope. Just to see that, I could even offer up my life. _I_ might not be able to help you, but…don't worry. Believe me, Anna. There is a way, and _I will show you_. One day..."

Sunlight broke through the night.

"I'll heal this broken world."

* * *

 **a/n:** Here we go, a new start! To reiterate, updates will come in either two weeks or when the next-next chapter is done, whichever comes earliest.

As for this chapter, lots of characters introduced, and I think this is as good a time as any to give this warning: Polaris has lots of controversial topics and characters with unsettling backgrounds. Brennus has been stated before to be a victim of child abuse, and this chapter touches on it with more detail; later on, topics like sexual assault and gender identity will come up, and there are instances of emotional abuse/manipulation, intentional triggering of others, etc. I'll give warnings if there's detailed description (which I don't expect often if at all), but these things are prevalent enough that I want to warn people now.

P.S. My favorite part of this chapter is Elsa v. Sol, Round 1.


	7. Forlorn Hopes

**Chapter 7: Forlorn Hopes**

Anna had been terrified of returning to sleep for fear of returning to her nightmares, but fatigue won out. Elsa had scarcely settled her in bed before she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, and by the time she woke, morning had given way to the brightest hours of the afternoon. Everything from the previous night might have been a horrifying dream, to be dispelled by light spilling through the window. She wished that were the truth. Now that she knew it existed inside her body, she could feel that lingering heat trapped in her chest, lodged in the back of her throat, like an aftertaste of ash and decay. It was swimming in her blood. It was _alive_ , maybe. Feeding on her as she had preyed on others.

She sat there in bed for a very long time, stilled, like the sculptured dead.

Elsa entered the room, carrying a tray with porridge, but Anna had no appetite to eat and Elsa likely suspected. She didn't bother to offer it, only laid it on the bed.

"What's happening to me?" Anna asked.

"I don't know. I wish I did." Elsa made a motion, like she was reaching for her hand, and then she withdrew and placed her hands in her lap. "But we'll get through this. We just have to keep trying."

"I'm tired of trying."

She had been trying ever since she left the Southern Isles. She had been trying even before then, ever since she left Arendelle, ever since her mother had left her in an emptied castle. She had tried to be strong, and she had even let herself start to believe that she _was_ strong—until she'd felt true strength, during those nauseating memories of ice on her breath, lightning at her fingertips. Anna still remembered that exhilarating freedom, and she feared it with all the meager power left in her wasting body. She feared strength just as much as she despised her weakness.

"Judus has requested that we go to the Temple. Just like Sol said he would," Elsa said. "If you don't want to go, then I'll turn it down—"

"No. If there's anything that can be done— Or just anything I should know, I...I want to know." Anna exhaled a pent-up breath. "Alek helped me, I remember that from last night. Where…?"

"He's here."

"I don't want to see him. Not yet, I don't think I can—"

"I know. I think he understands too."

"…Thank you, Elsa."

Silence for a little while. More for the sake of filling that silence with something, Anna reached for the porridge and scooped up a spoonful. It was a good consistency, not too watery, not too thick. Porridge was like that, good and easy to eat. She wouldn't even need to chew. Like a child confined to her sickbed. She felt overwhelmingly grimy, she realized. Like her skin was oily and her hair was unwashed, only that wasn't true. It'd be better if it was, because then she could at least do something about it.

"What do you think Judus wants from me?" Anna asked.

"Whatever he wants, don't trust him," Elsa said, open derision slipping into her voice. "But at least he's predictable. If he wants something, he's going to offer something for us, too."

"Do you…know him?"

"I've met him before. When Markus was…still around. Judus came to the Southern Isles as an ambassador once or twice." Elsa shrugged off the mention of Markus, but her nonchalance was forced. "I don't think he knew I had magic, but he offered to take me in to the Order as an apprentice. Markus refused, of course. I don't even want to know what he had planned for me."

Anna pushed the porridge away. "But…I don't see what I would have to offer him."

"I wouldn't worry about that just yet," Elsa said. "Let's just see what he has to offer _you_."

Anna couldn't imagine anything at all.

* * *

Rapunzel was accompanying them; King Friderich, apparently, wanted her to relocate to the Temple. For her safety, he said. Because the Order was powerful and well-guarded, and all of its members capable warriors, and Rapunzel could even learn while she was there. Elsa had not commented, but Anna could sense her skepticism, and she privately thought that the castle was itself well-guarded enough that the move was redundant. Maybe Friderich had other reasons.

"I'll lead the way," Rapunzel said, and she went ahead, uncaring of any potential danger even after the last incident. Anna wondered if she would ever change. Elsa watched her carefully, either because she had been tasked with her safety or, maybe, just out of concern.

It was an easy path, and the only real difference from their last excursion together was that the streets were just a little less full, a little less loud. Not enough to be empty or quiet. Of course, no one thought that anything bad would happen to them. Bad things, extraordinary things, happened to _other_ people. Just like Anna had never imagined her cloistered life in Arendelle would ever come to a close.

"Can you tell me about the Order?" Anna asked.

"Oh, sure." Rapunzel slowed her steps until she was walking in stride with the two of them, and Elsa relaxed. "Well, the full name is the Order of the Rose. It's an elite fighting force, meant to keep the peace, investigate criminal cases, that sort of thing. But Papa told you that it was established by my great-grandfather, right? Three generations ago. Sir Judus has been in charge since then. Honestly, I'm not too sure on the specifics but I think, back then, the Order was kind of…shady...?"

"They were a covert operations unit," Elsa finished, and Rapunzel nodded enthusiastically. "It started as the king's personal bodyguards, and then it developed into a military organization that could prosecute anyone without judicial authorization. Essentially, they could arrest or interrogate or torture whoever they wanted, on the basis that they wanted to."

"Wow, that sounds…" Anna grimaced.

"Yeah." Rapunzel looked uncomfortable, but of course she did. It was her history. "It sparked a rebellion, and then the Order was scaled down. Nowadays, it has to follow procedures and…things." She grinned sheepishly. "I should probably know more about this, I know, but trust me! Things are different now."

Elsa scoffed, and Anna knew she was thinking about the display back in the marketplace, when that girl, Gwen, had practically started a public uproar because of brutality. Anna was skeptical that people really wanted the Order around at all, but she could be judging based on one incident. There _had_ been that other boy who dragged Gwen away. She didn't know what to think anymore. She would have to wait and see—though she didn't have to wait long. Very soon, they had stopped in front of the Temple.

It was called the Temple of the Light. In the farthermost reaches of the city, removed from the air of the common world, the temple seemed consecrated in its own holy dimension. Temple was a misnomer. In layout, it resembled a monastery, and in sheer scale, it resembled a palace. Its outer walls were buttressed by towers, and the cloister church inside was tall, supported by high arches and spires; but there was serenity to it despite the imposing size, perhaps because of the gentle quiet, the fountain of calm waters that surrounded the path, on which the image of the castle was reflected. Multiple buildings were inside the complex, all within a vast courtyard and a bordering of cypresses that cast solemn shadows onto the white-grey stone walls.

Emblazoned above the doors, at the perfect center of the temple, was the image of a golden flower.

Anna approached, noticing two stone mastiffs that stood on either side of the doors. As she passed them, there was the slightest hint of movement – the faintest crick of their necks in her direction, the smallest sound of their noses twitching – and Anna understood why there were no gates. Elsa, too, must have noticed. Rapunzel was the only one to go through the doors without a care, and together, they entered the church that stood front and center in the verdant courtyard.

As soon as she passed through, Anna felt like she couldn't breathe. There was a pain inside her chest, behind her eyes, that wouldn't go away. A reminder of a past that wouldn't go away.

Inside, the high altar reminded Anna too much of another place, another time.

 ** _What you think is your true face…the face behind the mask…is that really…your true face?_**

"Anna!"

She was yanked back to reality by a hook and thread, and it felt like her skin was tearing away. She was suddenly aware of where she was again, like a blindfold had been torn off her eyes. She wasn't in the Southern Isles. She wasn't in that chapel. And the person in front of her now was not Edmund, but—

"Sol!" Rapunzel cried.

Anna stared in disbelief. Sol was indeed kneeling there at the front of the hall, though she was not facing the altar but instead towards them, smiling as easily as though she were born here, in this temple. In some ways, she did almost blend in with the temple as though she were an extension of it. She might even have been the figure of the high altar, if only she were not flesh and blood. Instead she was seated at a low table where an entire tea set had already been laid out, and cushions placed all around, and she gestured for them to sit. Rapunzel readily claimed a seat, and Elsa helped Anna to hers before sitting.

"Why are you everywhere we go?" Elsa said.

"Master Judus should be getting here pretty soon," Sol said. "I was told to receive you, and…I really hope there aren't any bad feelings between us, about last time we met. I was only testing you, Elsa."

"How strange, that you have a different excuse every time."

"Oh, come on, don't start arguing," Rapunzel said, giving Sol a tentative smile. "It's good to see you again, though. I didn't even have a chance to thank you properly last time."

"It was the right thing to do. Isn't that what you told me?" Sol smiled, and it was a quieter, gentler one than Anna had seen her give anyone else. "I'll make us something to drink."

"Sol," Anna said, and she paused. "You…didn't say anything about being in the Order."

"Well, I'm technically not! Just like Rapunzel technically isn't, even though she learns here now and then." Sol tapped her chin, humming for a little while. "Everyone here is ranked, Student, Apprentice, Knight...I'm not anything, so I'm below everyone else. I'm just Master Judus's personal assistant."

"His personal prize, you mean," Elsa said.

"W—e—ll," Sol answered, slowly, "Queen Elsa would know all about being a prize."

Anna gripped Elsa's hand tightly, and she could practically feel Elsa restrain herself from simply reaching across the table and strangling Sol. She understood Elsa's suspicion, even her dislike, but the ease with which Elsa could develop the intent to kill, to hurt —Elsa was not changed from what she had been, the force of nature that had ruled an eternal winter. Her only difference, now, was that she was willing to choose not to fall to the temptation of her powers. It was an easy path to take, Anna knew. With that power at their fingertips, they could reach out and take whatever they wanted, destroy what they hated.

Sol did not seem perturbed. She wasn't even looking at Elsa anymore, instead tending to her tea with such precise care that she must have done this hundreds of times. There was a small cauldron resting on a bed of coals, and as the water boiled inside, she began to speak again.

"It's hard to boil water correctly. At the first boil, the water bubbles, like fish eyes. At the second boil, the water simmers like a spring, and the tea will be at its finest." Sol crushed in the tea leaves, and they neither floated at the water's surface nor sank to the bottom. Instead they circled the middle, tossed about in the vortex. "But at the third boil, the water surges and seethes…and then the water will be past its prime. It becomes old and stagnant…and can't be used. But lots of things are like that. Aren't they?"

Sol ladled the tea into several clay bowls and passed them over one by one. It was nice, Anna thought, deep, golden brown and relaxingly fragrant. When she drank, the tea did not scald her tongue like she had expected, but was instead at a perfect temperature.

"I'm glad you know to savor the little things before just gulping it all down," Sol said, beaming.

Rapunzel guiltily pushed her empty bowl away.

"Will Judus be here any time soon?" Elsa asked. "You said there was a way to help Anna, and that's the only reason I'm here. If he's not going to show up, then we're leaving."

Sol rose and bowed.

Anna turned to see Judus entering the temple, and just like the last time she had seen him, his movements were powerfully confident. It made sense here, of course. From what she knew, the Temple of Light, the Order of the Rose, was as much his kingdom as Corona was to King Friderich.

Judus nodded, and Sol returned to her seat. Instead of taking a seat himself, he remained standing. Clearly he saw Rapunzel, but he made no sign to bow or even address her at all, and Rapunzel made no mention of this oversight. She hardly seemed to notice.

"Thank you for your patience, Princess Anna," Judus said. "I realize that you are all acquainted with Sol, hence my request for her to accompany you while I took care of other matters."

"And how did you find this one?" Elsa asked.

Judus smiled coldly. "Well, I think that's a story for another time. As you said, aiding Princess Anna is our top priority."

Anna leaned forward. "So there's really a way? If there's anything that can help get rid of this magic—"

"If you will look to the depictions above us." Judus gestured towards the stained glass windows, each one intricately crafted. Especially in the twilight hours, the light filtered through like a dawning halo. Colors and lights combined and burned like flames, illuminating the stories annealed in their glass panes.

"Of course, you are familiar with the story of the Mirror which originated from a drop of moonlight," Judus said. Anna resisted the urge to flinch. One of the windows showed the Mirror, surrounded by destruction as its surface reflected a dark heart. "Those who misused its powers wreaked havoc on the world. And, incidentally, were banished to the Southern Isles. I suppose they did not learn their lesson."

Elsa frowned but said nothing.

"Unknown to many is the second half of the story. While the moon gave rise to the Mirror, the sun, also, bore a gift to mankind." On the second window was a drop of sunlight descending from the sky, through the rich soil—and then it emerged from the earth, a golden flower which shone through the darkness. It was gloriously beautiful. Yellow-orange petals glowed so brightly that it seemed to burn with light. Lilac veins stenciled outwards in a star-shaped pattern. Even Sol's paradisiacal garden could not compare.

"It was aptly named the Golden Flower. A boon to the earth, capable of regeneration and healing where the Mirror ruined and destroyed." On the third window, the ruined world was renewed. Where there had only been darkness, the light pushed it back, and the verdant green of forests and woods returned. "Kings of old used the Golden Flower to mend the schisms of the twisted earth and repel the darkness of the burned sky. And to heal the sickness…that overtook the hearts of men."

There it was, on the window, men and women who were bathed in light and were well again, free from the darkness. Anna had heard and seen enough. It could counteract the Mirror. With the Golden Flower, she could reverse everything that had happened to her and she could finally, finally, be free.

"Where is it?" Anna asked. "That Golden Flower— Where—?"

"Gone," Sol said.

Gone. What was the point of hearing that whole story, then? Anna wanted to rage and curse and do _something_ to vent off the hopelessness snuffing out her breath. But she couldn't even move.

"Don't worry," Sol continued. "Master Judus didn't invite you here for nothing."

Judus nodded. "After the shattering of the Mirror, the Golden Flower also wilted and scattered its petals across the world. It's true that no one has been able to locate and reunite them, but…I believe you can."

"Why Anna?" Elsa asked. "What are you planning, Judus?"

"Because the Mirror and the Flower are opposite and equal…and also linked," Sol said. "They were created together, and they vanished together. We think that when Anna used the Mirror to touch the world, she would have sensed the Flower. If she can tap into those memories…"

"Wait, Anna…used the Mirror…?" Rapunzel had been silent all this time, no doubt having heard the story before. Now she turned her gaze to Anna. Her eyes were wide with shock, disbelief, and – Anna saw it. She was afraid. She was remembering a distant vision, one she had thought an imagined nightmare, and realizing that the white-haired queen garbed in shining, silver armor had been _Anna._

"Anna isn't going to be your human map," Elsa spat. "I won't allow you to play with her mind. Those times are in the past, and they're going to stay there. You don't even know if she saw anything—"

"I did."

She had. Anna remembered it now, her visions when the shadow magic awakened. She had seen flashes of a golden flower, _the_ Golden Flower. And before that, standing at the top of a tower, witnessing the end of the world, she had seen it. Each individual petal, transformed into a smaller flower and scattered across the world like seeds. It hurt to even think about that time. There was a persistent pain behind her eyes, like something was stabbing through her eye sockets. She bowed her head, squeezing her eyes shut.

"It's for the greater good," Judus said. "If Anna acquires the Flower, she can, of course, rid herself of her affliction…and she can use it to heal those afflicted with serglige as well. All will be well again."

"Are you going to go along with this, Anna?" Elsa asked hurriedly.

It didn't take a genius to know that Judus was using her to find the Flower, but Anna couldn't see any negative to it. She wanted, _needed_ , to be free of this darkness. She couldn't live like this anymore, with the constant reminder of her death. Because that _was_ what it was, wasn't it? She had been killed, that time. When Edmund possessed her, he had killed her spirit. Once he left her body, she was left a shell.

"I'll do it," Anna murmured.

"Anna—"

"Elsa, I need to do this." Anna met her eyes. Elsa was pleading for her to refuse, but she'd already made her decision. Just this once. She had her own path, and she was going to take it. "It's like you said before. I – I need to do this, and if the Order can help me…"

"Excellent." Judus smiled. "In that case, Anna, you can stay at the Temple. Our facilities will be helpful to your physical recovery, I'm sure, and if you would like, our instructors would be more than happy to prepare you for battle. Once you are ready to set out, then all of our resources will be at your disposal."

Judus reached out and, as Sol looked on with a smile, Anna took his hand.

* * *

"You're upset with me."

They were in their new quarters within the Temple of Light, one of the rooms within the dormitory for students and knights, and Anna knew that Elsa resented being under someone else's command. Rapunzel was in the room next to theirs, having retreated immediately after the meeting and saying nothing more to Anna. After promising to give them a tour the next day, Sol had left to no one knew where. Anna and Elsa were left to their own devices, and as Elsa angrily examined their new surroundings, Anna had finally broken the silence.

"I'm not upset with you," Elsa said.

"You are."

"I'm not." Elsa sat at the table set in the middle of the room, pouring herself a cup of water and downing it. "I'm just worried. I understand why you want to do this, but…"

"You said to see what Judus could offer us," Anna said. "And right now, he's offering us a solution. Elsa, I can't live like this anymore. You deserve better than – this – whatever I've become. I'm not happy. I can't make _you_ happy. There's something broken inside, and if this can fix me, I…I need it."

"Nothing is wrong with you."

"It feels like it."

"What can I do or say to convince you, Anna?" Elsa reached for her hands, holding them within her own, and Anna realized that Elsa felt warm because she was cold. "I won't argue with you about this new magic. But even before that—I know you weren't happy. Why, Anna? I don't understand."

"…I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

"Myself," Anna said.

Maybe that was why, even after so many months, she still couldn't walk. She didn't trust herself to. She didn't trust that her darker side wouldn't take over again, because Queen Anna had been Edmund and it had been Anna, too. She was just as much at fault. She didn't deny that. She couldn't deny that. Even Elsa knew. Even Elsa had acknowledged it, both during their battle and after, that Anna had been present. Not just present but at the forefront of that white-haired creature, that goddess of her fears. It had been her insecurities and her need for strength that had given birth to it.

"Nobody's perfect," Elsa said.

"I want to be. I don't want to be afraid of being like that again," Anna said. She pulled her hands free and looked at them. She didn't even know why these powers had suddenly awakened. "Maybe this is some sign that Edmund is coming back to life. Maybe he's crawling out of my subconscious."

"We saw him die, Anna."

"Then maybe these powers are telling me that I'm still that same person who fought you," Anna said. "I don't want to be that person. I just want to be Anna. I want to be the me who first met you."

Elsa sighed and reached out again, cradling her head as she pulled her close, and Anna relaxed into the crook her neck. Soft lips kissed her forehead. Elsa smelled of pines and snow. Winter, Anna thought.

"All right," Elsa said. "I'll support you, no matter what you want to do."

"Thank you."

"Because I trust you. I know I don't seem like it, but…I trust you more than I trust anyone, even more than I trust myself. My only wish is that you could trust yourself too."

"I know."

Anna wished so too.

* * *

It was infuriating just waiting around, doing nothing.

Morgan loathed inaction. It was tantamount to handing over the initiative and rendering herself at someone else's mercy. Defense didn't win any battles. Doing nothing, the only option left was to react, and reaction did nobody any good. Reaction was just making the best of a bad situation. Reaction was shrinking in fear. Reaction was staying still and staying quiet while a shadow loomed over her body, and the musty breath of an ugly laugh fanned hotly over her skin.

Disgusting.

But maybe she was just complaining because she hated being at their so-called base. She liked being in the wilderness, in the forests and by the streams, not confined to this wall of mortar and grey stone. She liked being alone, not surrounded by people like Taranis and Eira and Mani's plaything screaming its head off. At least she could just lie on her back outside. Most the others were out doing inconsequential things, so she was left with herself and someone she actually didn't mind being around.

When he wasn't being apologetic, anyway.

"Are you still mad at me?" Ayden asked.

"No. Stop asking." Morgan scowled. "But take that mask off already."

"I prefer it on."

It took some effort not to reach out and rip the ugly thing off his face. She had worn one too, and the sensation of something covering her face reminded her all too much of rough hands. Ayden had no business hiding his face, anyhow. He had a beautiful face, even if he would never believe it. Better than hers, which she could barely recognize. Her hair was in the same style as it had ever been, with one braid that wrapped around the rest; her skin was still freckled; her nose still had the slight bump in its bridge. But her eyes—they had been light, once. Now they were dark, so dark the pupils were invisible.

Ayden lifted his mask to scratch his chin, and Morgan snorted. She had almost forgotten. It was unbearably itchy, having that metal trap their breath and prick their skin. It was only good for looking intimidating, though she could appreciate that—like a rattlesnake's warning.

"It's a stupid mask," Ayden admitted, and the smile was in his voice even if Morgan couldn't see it.

"You're stupid." Morgan regretted it the moment the words left her mouth. She always managed to sound like a petulant child compared to Ayden, and she was supposed to be older. "If you had let me kill that blonde idiot, I would have managed to take Anna. It's not like he doesn't deserve to die. He's too weak to be spouting off about honor and morality _._ "

"We don't have the right to make judgments," Ayden said. "People shouldn't make judgments about other people at all. What they deserve. What they are."

"You're right," Morgan said. "Only the Queen has the right to make that judgment. Once she returns, she'll judge everyone. I won't have to do a thing, and all the filth in this world will be wiped out."

"That's…not quite what I meant."

How Ayden still had his morals intact, she would never understand. But then, he hadn't had his autonomy violently stripped from him. What did morality mean anymore when she remembered having lost everything else, having seen the worst that man had to offer? Only strength mattered when everything else was gone. Ayden had never, would never, know what it was like to be—to be—to be naked of dignity—to be powerless, helpless, defenseless. Of course he would take the moral high ground. He would never know what it was like to be—

 _Be a good girl, Morgan._

No one was going to touch her ever again.

"Morgan—"

"Get off me," Morgan spat, flinging his hand off her shoulders.

Ayden looked stricken.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think—"

"Look, I'm not going to shatter on you, I'm not fragile." Morgan took a deep draft of air and exhaled, looking away. She wanted to apologize. She didn't want to say it out loud. "Though you might be, brat."

It was blatantly untrue. Ayden was a gentle soul, but he was far from weak. It was a toll on her pride to admit, but the little kid she had protected from bullies could now send her sprawling to the ground.

"…Yeah."

"Lighten up, I'm kidding. I'm…proud." Morgan turned. It really did pain her to see the mask staring back, instead of his face, but everyone had the right to hide something. She didn't know if it counted as a weakness. Strength had never come easily to her, but she had to be strong for this kid who had shown up to the orphanage with his hair chopped short and his chest bound. She couldn't stumble, because she needed to hold him up. At least…that had been before. "You've come a long way."

"Can I ask you something…strange?"

"What?"

"Do you ever feel like…you don't know what you're doing anymore?"

Morgan opened her mouth to answer no, of course not, she knew exactly what she was doing. Because she needed to have some direction, and she didn't want to question it. Conviction was a painful pleasure, and the awful glory of their goddess—that was what she was working towards. But, when she found herself unable to speak, she realized…

There were moments when she felt horribly, horribly lost, but those moments were ones of terrible clarity. It was when she felt _strong_ that her thoughts were feverish and confused, strings of unconnected ideas that only vaguely resembled rationale. None of this seemed to make sense. Did it? Whenever those doubts manifested, though, her head would split with pain until her vision blackened and she awoke, on her knees, the zealous faith having returned to swallow her fears.

"What are you trying to say?" Morgan demanded.

"It feels like something is—"

 ** _Oh, you two are bonding!_**

Mani was back.

She stopped and stared at them, silent as death. Mani liked to wander off alone, and sometimes she didn't come back for days. No one knew what she was doing, and Morgan wasn't about to ask. Nobody did. Morgan remembered reuniting with Mani, all of them camped out at the old orphanage after coming back from the Southern Isles, like they had promised; and Mani had padded in with soundless footsteps and a dark heart beating in her hand. Nobody had asked then, either, where she had been and what she had been doing all those years. It was instinctual not to ask anything of this bandaged spectre.

"Mani," Ayden said, his voice admirably warm.

 ** _It's so good to see you wearing a mask! It really suits you, more than your ugly face._**

Ayden shrank back and said nothing to defend himself.

"Why are we waiting around?" Morgan cut in, feeling shivers run down her spine that had nothing to do with cold. "We're not accomplishing anything just sitting here."

 ** _Don't worry! We're waiting on Anna. She needs us, because…_**

 ** _We have this._**

Mani was carrying a black rose in her hands.

And for one second, the flower glowed gold.

* * *

 **a/n:** I apologize for all the exposition, but it was necessary! Some of you may also have noticed that I recently changed all the chapter titles; I just wanted to make them all oxymorons. It felt more appropriate for the theme of the story, rather than the weather/meteorological/astrological phenomena thing I was doing before.


	8. Impersonal Friends

**Chapter 8: Impersonal Friends**

"What exactly am I supposed to do?"

Anna realized that, despite agreeing to aid in the search for the Golden Flower, she had no idea how. She couldn't consciously access her memories of the Mirror. It wasn't a matter of willingness; Anna could try all she wanted, but returning to that all-encompassing view felt like disembodiment—like being everywhere and nowhere at once, like becoming the world by losing her own self. Her fragile, human mind couldn't comprehend it, the sheer scope of the world. If there were some higher power out there, then Anna didn't envy his or her omnipresence.

"Don't worry about that for now," Sol said. "It'd be best if you just focus on getting better and maaaybe learning to walk again? It sucks to be stuck in that wheelchair, right? It'd be nice to get out of it, right?"

"…Yeah."

"Well! How about I give you that tour I promised? If she wants, Elsa can come along too."

As Anna learned, the dormitory area was connected to the refectory, or dining hall. It was a short walk to the cloister church, where they had convened the previous day; but that was largely for the sake of visitors, and typical meetings were at the chapter hall. There was a cloister walk too, connecting the library and classrooms and rooms dedicated to preserving rare, preserved documents. All these buildings were spread out within a large courtyard, with space reserved for relaxation and even a garden path similar to what Sol had at her home; but behind it all, taking up a large majority of the complex, was the training grounds for the knights.

Everything here was tastefully done, Anna thought. Grandiose in size, maybe, but the place otherwise resembled a modest monastery. Most buildings were crafted out of white wood and stone, and Anna saw not workers but students taking time to clean, sweeping leaves out of the paths and watering the plants. Even Elsa admitted that the temple was agreeable—though the company was lacking, she added.

Sol had then departed, citing some task that Judus had assigned. Elsa suggested that they eat, and so they headed to the refectory. Anna was there just in time to see Rapunzel leaving, clutching a piece of bread in her mouth; but though their eyes met, Rapunzel hurried on without a word.

"Don't worry. She'll come around," Elsa said.

Anna wasn't so sure.

They would have eaten in relative silence, but they had been joined by two new initiates who were fascinated by Anna's sudden arrival. Aaron and Miriam, they were named, both of them Student Apprentices—the lowest rank of the Order. They both seemed more than a little in love with Sol, just like the villagers of Merryvale had been. Beloved everywhere she went, Anna thought. It was…uncanny.

"She's only around our age and she's already at the top of the Order," Aaron said, waving his fork like a storyteller might brandish his pipe. "I mean, she's not ranked, but everyone just knows. Even Uriah listens to her, and he's a full-fledged Knight—one of the youngest ever! I don't think he even bothers to show respect to Lazarus and the other veterans, but he straight up takes orders from _Sol_."

"And she's new, too. She joined just before us, like, eight or nine months ago. Apparently Master Judus brought her back from the Southern Isles!" Miriam looked warily at Elsa, but she didn't bother to respond, only chewed pensively on her meal as she pretended not to listen. "Poor thing was captured and taken there. Which is…actually sort of odd, isn't it?"

Because she had magic. Anna had witnessed it, not just the healing magic but her offensive powers. She couldn't rival Elsa, but defending herself against soldiers and slavers...

Anna saw Elsa narrow her eyes, but she said nothing about it.

After breakfast, Aaron and Miriam had headed to their classes since, apparently, Judus refused to lead a group of unlearned brutes. Everyone in the Order was required to be scholars and fighters both, and their classes included poetry and history, horticulture and tea ceremony. Any talent in the arts was to be cultivated, and at the very least, _appreciation_ of a wide range of subjects was expected.

"Do you like it here?" Anna asked. It was an odd question, she knew, unprompted, but instinct told her that places of learning was something Elsa could appreciate. Elsa _liked_ learning, was fascinated by all kinds of knowledge. If nothing else, the room of artifacts, containing original manuscripts of ancient texts and classic literature, was the sort of place that Elsa could have spent all day exploring.

"It's…not disagreeable." Elsa looked up, frowning just a little. "I wonder what life would have been like, if Markus really had handed me over to the Order. It's a strange thought."

"Maybe one day you could start a place like this, too," Anna said. Elsa just looked at her in disbelief, and she smiled. "I mean, like a school. I could see you doing that."

"Me, teach?" Elsa laughed dryly. "I'm not patient enough to coddle anyone."

"No! Remember when you were teaching me about geography?"

"That was because it was _you_."

Anna smiled. "I'm pretty sure you'd do well enough."

"Let's say I wanted to teach," Elsa said. "Who would want to learn from someone like me?"

But Anna was sure that Elsa was mulling over the idea. She had never said outright that she _didn't_ want to teach, and for Elsa, always direct and pointedly precise with her words, that was as good as a confession. Well, that was for another time. Anna smiled over her meal, thinking about how to broach the topic of her next destination, when Elsa brought it up before she could.

"Are you really going to the training grounds?" Elsa asked.

"Yeah, I…want to walk again," Anna said. "Sol said someone would guide me there later today."

Anna had spent all night thinking about it. She had tried before, tried and failed, but she wondered if fear really had stopped her from succeeding. Maybe. She hadn't even wanted to succeed, not really. When she had tried to walk before, she had done it because she didn't want to be a burden on Elsa. It wasn't for her own sake, not like now. It wasn't just that she didn't want to sit. It was that she wanted to walk. She wanted to stand on her own. It was a small difference, but maybe it would be enough.

"But I want to go on my own," Anna said.

"Why?"

"It's too easy to rely on you." Anna smiled, hoping she could reassure Elsa. She cared too much, and that was a trap that Anna knew well. "Trust me. I can do this on my own."

"…I see." Elsa sighed and closed her eyes. "Well, that's fine. I should return to the castle and inform Friderich about the situation."

It was a concession, and Anna accepted it gratefully. It must have pained Elsa to leave her on her own, but Anna had little doubt that Elsa was tired, too. Anyone would be, taking care of someone for months. It would be a small respite for both of them, Anna from Elsa's shadow and Elsa from Anna's burden. Elsa would be there if she needed her to be, and that was enough.

"I'll see you later," Elsa said, smiling softly.

But no matter how much she wanted to try her own strength, that didn't make separation any easier. Elsa left on her own errands, leaving Anna to head out by herself to the chapter hall, where she was supposed to wait for her guide, and it was nerve-wracking. She wasn't sure she was ready for this after all. Being surrounded by people she didn't know, traversing a place she didn't recognize—Anna took a deep breath. It could be fun if she allowed it to be.

"Princess Anna?"

Anna looked up at the call of her name, and she was greeted by a middle-aged man, broad-shouldered and more heavily built than anyone she had ever seen. He was wearing the customary white coat of the Order, albeit disheveled, one collar raised and the other flattened. It would have seemed natural to find the man intimidating, but he had large eyes and a soft smile, and he was somehow far from threatening.

"Hello," Anna said, gripping the edge of her wheelchair and staring up at the man.

"Lazarus," said the man, smiling warmly, and he offered a massive hand. Anna took it, blinking at the firmness of his handshake. "It's a pleasure to meet you. If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"

"Umm, I'm twenty."

It was…pretty weird to say that aloud.

"Oh, you look younger than that," Lazarus said. "Well then! I hope the Temple is treating you well."

"It's been really great."

"Mmm, I'm glad, I'm glad. It must be a lot to take in, I know." Lazarus guided her along the path, and when they passed by people, nearly all of them stopped to wave to Lazarus. "I expect Judus has given you a lot to think about."

"Yeah…" Anna looked down. "It's…I agreed to help, but…"

"Sometimes decisions are easy to make in the moment and harder to accept once the moment has passed." Lazarus shot her a sympathetic glance. "But for what it's worth—I think that some doubt is good. It just means that you're thinking! Better than being a knucklehead like me."

Anna laughed. "Thank you, that means a lot. I feel like I've been doubting myself a lot, lately. Am I doing the right thing. Am I going to hurt anybody. It's…hard to tell."

"It's definitely hard," Lazarus agreed. "Listen, Anna. I know about your magic, and I want to say— It really _is_ good to have some doubts, as long as you don't let it stop you from acting. Having no second thoughts about anything…well, that just means that you have no regard for anyone but yourself. See, I can already tell that you're someone who cares about other people. I can trust you because of that."

Anna couldn't find the words to respond. Maybe Lazarus knew, because their conversation continued on a lighter note. He asked about her hobbies, what she liked to eat, what her favorite color was, what sorts of things she had seen on her journey before coming to Corona. Anna was dazed by this man who was irrationally kind and unfailingly intuitive. With a pang, she realized that he reminded her of Kai.

"Here we are!" Lazarus said, as they entered the larger clearing at the back of the complex. "Welcome to our little slice of paradise. Just kidding, I think most of us get sick of it after running a couple miles."

It was definitely a nice place. An armory and stables were obvious essentials, but there was an entire range for riding and Anna could see several knights racing past the obstacles. Several rings had been cleared from the grassy field, and within each one were pairs of sparring students, while some others spectated. Other blue-clad trainees were running along the perimeter or otherwise practicing some form of weaponry, whether that was archery or knife-throwing.

"Ahh, there are my apprentices," Lazarus said, smiling fondly as he pointed to a boy and girl within one particular sparring ring. Looking at them, Anna now understood a lot of his demeanor. He was clearly a fatherly figure, and that responsibility had given him insight he'd used with Anna.

As they approached the ring, though, Anna realized that she recognized the pair.

"Gwen, Valen! I'd like you two to meet Princess Anna."

They were the two from the marketplace.

Gwen looked down her nose at Anna, sheathing her sword in a deliberate flourish. It seemed that her attitude was never much better than her display at the market. Anna could practically feel the condescension. "Now I've met her. Can we move on to something else?"

"Gwen," Lazarus said, tone sterner than any he had used yet.

"Right! Let's move on past the pleasantries and dull questions," Valen said, smoothly maneuvering himself between Lazarus and Gwen. "It is _entirely_ my pleasure to meet you, Princess Anna. I should dearly like to kiss your hand, but I don't want to transgress."

Anna stared at him with wide eyes.

Valen gave her a knowing smile and shrugged almost imperceptibly.

"R-Right! Umm, thank you for the thought," Anna said, smiling. She understood Valen's intention to avoid making Gwen apologize, and she was glad for it—Lazarus looked uncomfortable already with his pupil's behavior, and Anna didn't want him to feel worse when she inevitably gave a forced apology.

"I do say," Valen continued, "I had no idea you would be visiting us today, or I would have made sure to dress in my finest white coat, out of my closet of identical white coats. My white coats are, naturally, more handsome than everyone else's white coats. Yes, Gwen, even your white coat. Don't be jealous."

Anna snorted.

She hadn't taken time to observe Valen last time, since she was more focused on Gwen. She was still pretty, in her unconventional kind of way. Not the large doe eyes associated with innocence but narrowed, slightly tapered eyes that were sharp and alert, and thin lips instead of a full, pouting mouth; but her prettiness was spoiled by her nasty expression. In contrast, Valen was like a ray of sunshine. His hair was exceedingly blonde, practically yellow, and his jaunty smile was confident, almost cocky. Valen was the type with admirers, Anna could tell. There was an obvious pink stain on the inside of his collar, and the sight almost made her blush.

"Rapunzel told me about you," Valen said gently, dropping the pompous persona.

"Oh! You know Rapunzel?"

She really hoped the lipstick on his collar wasn't—

"She's my cousin. Zuzanna is my aunt," Valen said, and the way he lingered over the syllables of cousin made it obvious he knew exactly what she had been thinking, and he thought it was hilarious.

Anna cringed.

"Can we get back to training?" Gwen said sharply. She stepped out from behind Valen, and the way she looked down at Anna spoke volumes. Her gaze went to Anna's wheelchair and her lip curled, not even with condescension but—disdain. She didn't think Anna was worth her time. "No offense, Lazarus, but since you're not letting us investigate, I may as well do _something_ productive."

Lazarus sighed. "Of course, you two get back to it. I'll be back to supervise. Let's go, Anna."

Anna returned Valen's wave and followed after Lazarus, who seemed to be heading towards the armory and its several adjoined buildings. His steps were more hurried than before, almost uncomfortably so.

"I'm sorry about Gwen," Lazarus said, stopping suddenly in his tracks.

"No! It's fine," Anna said. She could already sense an uncomfortable conversation coming. It was like being with a teacher and tattling on another kid, only a thousand times worse because she was an _adult_ and shouldn't have needed this type of coddling.

"It's not." Lazarus turned, and he looked…tired, worn, like a weathered stone. "It's very brave that you're here, Anna. It would have been easy for you to just run away from your problems, and I'm sure Elsa would have hidden you away if that was what you wanted. But that's not what you did. You came here so you could help and also _be_ helped, and that bravery needs to be recognized. You're a person, and it's important you're treated with respect. Remember that."

"…Okay."

Anna really hoped she wasn't tearing up. It was so embarrassing, but Lazarus just smiled.

"Gwen is very preoccupied with ascending the ranks," Lazarus said. "Yes, she does want prestige, and she does trample on other people's feelings, sometimes. But she has her reasons. I won't delve into them, because they're not mine to tell, but…I hope you can find it in you to forgive. I know it doesn't justify her attitude, but being unable to investigate these attacks is frustrating to her."

"Why isn't she allowed to investigate?" Anna asked, though she had an idea already. It wasn't hard to remember her first time seeing Gwen.

"I think we both know that she isn't ready." Lazarus smiled. "But I think she'll mature with time. At least, I hope so! I'm already getting grey hairs."

Anna grinned. "Sometimes you do seem like a nice grandpa."

"Yes…" Lazarus chuckled. "Maybe I would be in another, luckier life."

They resumed their walk at a more comfortable pace, and soon they had arrived at one of the barracks. No weapons for today, Lazarus joked. They were going to be working on walking today and probably for a good while _after_ today, because these things couldn't be rushed. Just from the outside, the building looked comfortable enough. It wasn't steel like the barracks at the Southern Isles Castle had been, but the same white wood that made up the other buildings in the temple. There were enough windows that the light would shine in comfortably. All in all, it was as reassuring as it could be.

"Nervous?"

"A little," Anna admitted. She liked Lazarus. She liked speaking to him even more than she did Sol, who had a tendency of making her feel slightly off balance for a reason that she couldn't name. She wasn't really relaxed around Sol, not in the easy way she was with Lazarus, who was such a fatherly figure that he could probably make a frightened rabbit calm down; but even still, she didn't really want to try to walk around him, someone she had just met today. It just made her feel too exposed, too vulnerable.

"Well, that's normal. But…I have a bit of a surprise for you, and hopefully this will help."

Lazarus opened the door to the compound, and Anna froze. It took every bit of willpower not to turn tail and flee—but actually, she couldn't move at all. She was rooted to the spot.

Alek was waiting inside.

"…Hey," he said.

At least he looked uncomfortable too.

"I'll leave you two to work on your own now," Lazarus said, squeezing her shoulder once, and Anna swallowed thickly. "I should make sure those kids out there aren't causing any trouble."

Anna pushed herself into the room, her gaze never straying from Alek. She'd almost forgotten that he was in Corona. Or rather, she had let herself avoid the thought of him. What was she supposed to say? I'm sorry I froze you into a statue. I'm sorry I brainwashed you and then sent you to kill your brother.

"They figured you'd be more comfortable if I was the one to help you," Alek said. Anna took back every bit of praise she had given Lazarus. When she didn't respond, Alek added, "I mean, I wanted to help. It's not like I was forced into it." Anna remained silent, and Alek exhaled through his nose. "Anna, look—"

"Thank you, for helping me that other night."

"…Yeah. Sure." Alek cricked his neck, looking away for a moment like it was a brief reprieve. "Should we get started? With getting you walking again."

"Sure."

"We did this with Hans," Alek said. "Patience isn't really my strong suit, but this does take a while so we should just try to get you standing for now. Take these. Leg braces to take your…considerable weight."

Alek looked at her pointedly, like he was waiting for a particular response, but Anna just took the braces and began to attach them to her legs with mechanical motions. They were bulky things, and she needed to scoot forward in her wheelchair to make room, but eventually she slid them on. There was a whole contraption at the back of her knee to keep her legs straightened.

"Here." Alek extended his hand. Anna hesitated for a second before taking it, allowing him to help her off her wheelchair and into a rudimentary standing position.

She'd tried this before. She could manage as far as getting to her feet, but _staying_ on her feet was the hard part. It felt like her legs were about to collapse at any moment. Her arms were shaking while she held onto Alek, and she grit her teeth to bite back a groan.

"Relax," Alek said, gripping her arms. "You have the braces, and I'm here to balance you. Just get used to the feeling of standing. Don't forget to breathe. _Exhale_ , Anna."

It was excruciating for the first ten or fifteen seconds, when she felt like she would fall at any moment, and the fear of an impact was at the forefront of her mind. It became a little easier past that. Before, Elsa had always just let her sit back down when she became afraid, and she'd never managed to stand for more than five seconds. Alek kept a strong grip on her elbows so she didn't have much of a choice but to stand, and as much as she resented it at first…

She'd needed that tiny push.

"All right, that's good." Alek lowered her slowly back into her seat, and Anna took a deep breath of relief. She was sweating already, and she wasn't sure if it was from exertion or fear or both. "Take a break and then we'll try it again."

"Okay, thank you," Anna said. Alek stared. She looked down at her knees, still feeling his gaze, but eventually there just wasn't any way to avoid him anymore. "Is…something wrong?"

"…You don't sound like yourself."

Anna blinked. "What?"

"You—" Alek paused. "We're friends, Anna. You don't have to be so formal. We can joke around, like we used to. It's not—I don't—Whatever, I don't know what I'm saying. Forget it."

"…Okay."

Alek sighed.

He had her stand up, and once again, she did everything she could to avoid looking at him even as he helped to balance her on her feet. She looked at her feet, around the room. It was well-padded with thick rugs in case she fell, and also well-equipped with what she assumed was meant to help her in later stages of her therapy. All sorts of braces, blocks, even a walker that made her uneasy just looking at it. She was in a wheelchair, not…old. But she was being judgmental. Lots of people needed walkers, and not all of them were old. _She_ was an example.

"Take a break."

Avoiding Alek's eyes had actually diverted her attention enough that she'd stood for longer than she thought. Anna had no illusions about how long she would manage without the braces and without Alek as a human crutch, but she was pleased with her progress. She opened her mouth to say something to that effect—and then stopped.

"Anna?"

"Sorry, I just…" Anna cleared her throat. "I forgot what I was going to say."

"I don't blame you."

"What?"

"I don't blame you," Alek said again. Anna looked up to see that his eyes were closed, his mouth set into a deep frown. "Listen, I'm not that petty. I know it wasn't you doing all of that."

"…It was."

Alek opened his eyes. " _No_ , Anna. Look, Elsa's told me all about you thinking you're the one at fault, but that – wasn't – you. It was just Edmund messing with your head, so stop blaming yourself."

"It's not like that—"

"It _is_ ," Alek said, practically growling, and he turned his back and paced to the other end of the room as he spoke. "Will you stop saying that it was you doing that stuff? You're not responsible."

"But it was. I am." Anna was beginning to feel indignant too, that Alek wouldn't hear a word she had to say. Did he really think he knew better? "I won't pretend like it wasn't me. I – am – at – fault."

"Do you _want_ to be blamed?" Alek sounded so shocked. It was almost touching how much blind faith he had, but it pained her much more. Now he thought she just had a martyr complex. Maybe she did. Anna had considered that before, that maybe her so-called self-awareness was just her need to be tragic.

But she remembered the vivid satisfaction of ice and lightning bursting from her fingers.

"Does that even matter?"

"You didn't have a choice," Alek exclaimed. He was talking to himself as much as he was speaking to Anna. "You weren't in your right mind. You shouldn't feel like you need to take responsibility for it."

"You're right, I wasn't thinking straight." Anna shook her head. "But that doesn't mean it wasn't me thinking. I knew what I was doing. I remember it all."

" _I'm telling you_ —"

"Who are you to tell me anything?"

Alek whirled around. By now, Anna had managed to push herself onto her feet, wobbling precariously and bracing most of her weight on her upper body as she pushed against the arms of her wheelchair. But she was standing on her own. Alek's eyes went to her feet before returning to her face.

"I just…don't want to believe it," Alek said quietly. "I don't want to believe that you could do that to me."

"…I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"If you had been thinking straight…" Alek's voice caught in his throat, and he stopped. "If you had been thinking straight, then would you have…?"

"I would never have done it," Anna said. Her strength ran out and she fell, back into her wheelchair and back to her sins. Her eyes stung with tears, and they burned as they slid down her cheeks. She felt so cold. "I would never hurt you. I just— Oh, God. I don't know. I just thought I could do anything. I felt so strong that nothing seemed to matter anymore, but I – I swear I don't – I don't _want_ to hurt you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Alek crossed back to her side of the room and pulled her close.

"It's fine," Alek said, even as she sobbed her apologies. "Listen, I believe you. If you say you won't do anything to hurt me, I believe it. It's fine, Anna. I forgive you. All right? We're friends."

"H-How can you trust me…?"

"Yeah, well," Alek said, snorting, "I trust Hans and he tried to do _all_ of us in. Not that he was any good at it, stupid prick. Oh, and don't get me started on Elsa. If I can stop trying to murder her, then we're fine. Not that _I_ was any good at _that_. Good thing, huh?"

Anna laughed through her sobs, and it hurt her chest but it felt _good_ to laugh.

"Yeah. Good thing you suck," Anna said.

"There we go. Now you sound like Anna." Alek smiled, and it was such a rare expression for him, to not be scowling or frowning or trying to look scary but instead _smiling_ —Anna felt so relieved. "I think you've had enough excitement for today. We made good progress, but we can keep going tomorrow."

"Sounds good."

It really did.

Anna was glad Alek was here.

* * *

From his perch on the balustrade of the tower walls, Ayden surveyed the proceedings of the Temple of Light.

Truthfully, he enjoyed the sensation of being removed from the world and viewing its comings and goings as a spectator, and he would often sit and watch as people flit about their lives. There was something liberating about being able to enjoy the sight of life with none of the dangers of participating. Maybe he was meant to only watch from the outside. Maybe that was why he never felt comfortable throwing himself into the chaos, which looked so much more serene from a faraway perspective.

For instance, from this distance, he could appreciate the beauties of the temple.

But he knew that if he approached it, that beauty would morph in an instant.

Ayden rubbed his eyes, glad that he had forsaken his mask for today and been allowed an unobscured view. Of course, he was still hiding the lower half of his face. No one would see it and think, or say—

 _What a pretty girl._

Sometimes Morgan called him beautiful, on accident, and he knew that she meant well, but it still set him on edge. It really shouldn't have, though. Should it? Some men _were_ called beautiful. Were they just more comfortable with themselves, that they didn't mind, or even took pride in, so-called beauty?

His father had been a beautiful man, both inside and out. Noble, beautiful, and Ayden was sure that, if there were such a thing as heaven, his father was there now, watching him. Along with the rest of his blood family, the entirety of his household—Ayden could only hope they weren't sent to oblivion. He prayed that there was an afterlife so that the twenty-odd members of his family, the sixty-three servants, hadn't been completely destroyed. That the husks of their empty corpses hadn't been the end of them.

That was why if he got any closer to this seemingly beautiful temple, he knew he would see ugliness.

A familiar face here, a recognized voice there, burned into his memory since the night of the raid on his home. If he got any closer, he wasn't sure he would be able to stop himself from indulging a baser side, one which craved vengeance that was called justice. How many people down there had been at his home that night? How many people down there had spilled the blood of his family?

Exterminate them, Judus had said. For conspiracy against the royal family. Convenient. Conspiracy could mean anything. They could have been conspiring to take a late night visit to the castle, just for the scenery, and that would have been conspiracy. They could have been conspiring to assassinate the king and queen, and _that_ would have been conspiracy. Anything was conspiracy if argued for hard enough.

But that was a long time ago.

Ayden had already seen what he came to see, and he debated continuing to watch for whatever, or leaving now. There might be some strategic value to salvage from this whole mess. Yes, he had gone against Brennus and Taranis's warnings, but he had needed to see for himself whether or not it was true. Mani hadn't tried to stop him. She had just vanished, leaving a transcribed laugh hanging in the air.

But Sol was here.

Ayden had seen her walking with Anna.

"You've been there long enough."

It was spoken so quietly that Ayden barely registered it, but the spear that came flying towards his face was harder not to notice.

Ayden leapt off the balustrade, wincing from the cut just below his eye, but he still managed to safely land on his feet outside the temple. One man was walking out, his steps calm and measured, and he surmised this was the person who had tried to impale him just now. White coat, just like every other faceless, nameless member of the Order. Glasses, which could be a weakness.

"Uriah, Knight of the Order of the Rose," he said. His voice was as bleached of emotion as his coat was of color. It suited his face, cold and stone-like, like he had been carved from marble.

"…Ayden."

"Are you part of the Red Tempest?"

"Yes."

Uriah nodded, and he reached to the lance strapped to his back. "In that case, I will exterminate you."

 _Exterminate._

Ayden rushed forward, newfound shadow magic coiling into a spear in his hand, and he reached Uriah before he could even finish drawing his weapon; and he stabbed the spear towards his face. Ayden was moving faster than he had ever moved before, wisps of his magic exploding from his body and giving him unnatural speed, and he expected to impale the man's eye—but Uriah sidestepped, and his efforts were rewarded only by a scratch on his face. Uriah made no sound of pain and instead stabbed forward, and Ayden retreated from the solid-black lance. An instant later and it would have pierced his gut.

"We match," Ayden said. There was a cut below his right eye, and now Uriah had one below his left. Both of them were using pole weapons, he a two-handed spear and Uriah a lance.

"…Indeed."

Uriah leapt towards him, once again stabbing mercilessly at his vital areas, and Ayden was amazed at how fast he moved with such a bulky weapon. There was nothing he could do except redirect the attacks with the shaft of his spear, letting the lance slide past until Uriah inevitably drew it back and stabbed again. Ayden swung desperately, but the lance intercepted and shunted his spear away before slicing for his neck again, stabbing forward once he stumbled back. It was like being under assault by a battering ram. What could he do except defend?

 _Parry, thrust, slice, flick, hook, pick, pierce, block._

Ayden flung the lance away with a strong heave, and for the first time, Uriah widened his eyes in surprise. Now he was in control. Uriah's lance was primarily used for stabbing, and as long as Ayden closed the distance between them, there was little he could do to retaliate. He struck with the spear-butt and then the bladed end, making quick, small movements every time, and Uriah could only block with his lance held vertical, closer and closer to his body. It was impossible for him to try to stab him again. Ayden slammed his spear down in a wide arc and Uriah sidestepped in time for the pole to hit the ground; but Ayden was already winding it back, catching it by the upper half and swinging it around to readjust his grip, and he _lunged_.

He sliced through the epaulette on Uriah's right shoulder, and they paused.

Uriah's free hand curled into a fist, and he punched him in the chest.

Ayden stumbled back, hacking up blood, and he was sure that Uriah had ruptured something. But the man wasn't pursuing him, wasn't continuing his attack like he should have. Instead he was staring, looking at his fist for a moment and then back to him, and Ayden felt sick seeing the realization grow in his eyes, as he understood what it meant to have punched his bound chest and felt the softness there.

"You're a…" Uriah paused.

 _Don't say it._

 _Don't you say it._

 _I am not a woman._

"You're strong."

"Wh-What?"

"You said your name was Ayden, correct?" Uriah brandished his lance, but his left hand was thumbing the torn epaulette on his coat, and there was a glint of interest in his previously blank eyes. "I'll remember it as the name of the first man to cut me."

Hah. Ayden had only ever heard that he was too weak, too gentle, too soft, too feminine to be a man. Maybe it was true and his body was fragile. His personality would never be what other people called masculine, and neither would his face, with its delicate softness. Was he a boy, or was he just a stupid little girl playing pretend, making a big deal out of nothing? Minds were dangerous places to dwell in.

Ayden flung his spear at Uriah.

By the time he had batted it away and looked back, Ayden was long gone.


	9. Sweet Sorrow

**Chapter 9: Sweet Sorrow**

Eira sighed.

Sighing was one of the most intriguing, most _wonderful_ things someone could do. Sighing could mean they were lamenting some tragedy that brightened their otherwise dull lives. Sighing could mean they had deep secrets held close to their chest. Sighing could mean that they were noble creatures full of thwarted ambitions and unfulfilled dreams, that they were gloriously tragic martyrs. Sighing meant that someone was unsatisfied, and for Eira, that was ideal because satisfaction meant being complacent, dull—boring.

She had always admired the tragic lower class, the noble outcasts, the gallant refuse of society that refused to bow to its oppression. It was such a _realer_ way to live. Wasn't it that way in stories, too? Underdogs toppling their rulers. Eira wished she could have been born into that suffering of poverty, of discrimination, of bigotry. Perhaps if she were poor, she could experience starvation. If she were foreign, she could experience the loneliness of being on distant shores. If she were defected in some way, physical or mental, she could experience condescension. She was just glad that she was born a woman, so she could know the bigotry of patriarchy.

Yes, Eira mused, thinking of poor, poor Morgan, women were noble creatures.

And _that_ was why she had left behind her accursed life of wealth and comfort.

None of that mattered at all. It was so boring to have everything come easily, to be born into old money, to be born intelligent, to be born flawless, and worst of all, to be born so beautiful. People like her were beloved without ever lifting a finger. There was no struggle, and like Mani had said, struggle was the root of all existence. Eira thought herself admirable, too, for forsaking all her comforts in favor of the oppressed. She would help them. She was _one_ of them, one of the _other_ that was forsaken by society. She was one of the enlightened, free of worldly trappings and privilege. She had embraced the goddess of despair, and she enjoyed every second of suffering.

And speaking of suffering…

"Are you all right?" Eira asked.

Ayden was dabbing at the angry gash below his eye, still bleeding even after his return. Eira was looking forward to whatever _nasty_ punishment Mani or Taranis would have in store; Ayden _had_ just left without orders. But maybe they would think his wound was punishment enough. It would probably scar.

"Very masculine," Eira said. "I think it's so _wonderful_ that you're trying to affirm— to _find_ your own identity. Choosing to be a boy…I can't imagine how difficult it must be. I wonder if I could do it too."

"It's not a…choice." Ayden sighed, and Eira smiled a close-lipped smile, one she had heard described as fake. When she bothered to listen, that was what she heard. "How do you even know about that?"

 ** _I told her about it!_**

Letters hung in the air before Mani ever appeared – quite literally just appeared, as she often did, seemingly materializing out of nowhere – and dropped to sit on the floor beside them. She always made no sound. Even when she sat, there was gentleness to the motion, like the air was cushioning her fall. She pulled out her notebook from beneath her cloak and began scrawling a crude portrait of herself speaking to Eira.

"I didn't want her to know," Ayden murmured.

 ** _Why? Are you ashamed? Is that it? Are you ashamed of yourself because you know you're wrong?_**

Eira looked on in quiet admiration as Mani reached out to pat Ayden on the cheek, while Ayden himself seemed frozen.

 ** _Well, you're not wrong, so everyone should know. I was doing you a favor, and here you are, blaming little old me. Isn't that rude? And being mean to Eira when she was encouraging you! So rude._**

"S-Sorry," Ayden said.

"It's quite all right," Eira said, and Mani nodded encouragingly, taking their hands and linking them together. Ayden flinched, but Eira was as ecstatic as her apathy would allow. "It didn't trouble me. I just wanted to convey—to _tell_ _you_ that you shouldn't hide. And what a handsome scar that will leave!"

"…Yeah. Excuse me, I'm going to find some medicine."

Mani waved as he left—but she was also watching him with narrowed eyes. Eira noticed these things. She tried not to, but she had always been good at observation, and she knew that Mani was not as childish as she acted. But she could do what she wanted. Eira didn't really care.

She sighed.

 ** _Hmm?_**

"I do say, I might have upset him," Eira said. "But I rather think he dislikes me anyhow. I suppose it doesn't really matter either way."

 ** _Why?_**

"It's such a burden to be liked and loved. It's easier when you're hated. If people already hate you, then it hardly matters what you do anymore. There aren't any expectations to fulfill," Eira said. "So I don't care if people like me or not. Actually, I believe I prefer it when they don't!"

It took her a moment to realize, but Eira finally understood that Mani was laughing. She made no sound, just tremored in place with her hand over her mouth, but she was certainly laughing. Something rustled under the cover of her bandages, an odd crack and crunch. When Mani was done, she drew close, crawling on hands and knees until she was nestled between her legs. Eira didn't dare to even breathe when Mani leaned in and pressed her mouth against her ear, and the bandages on her face loosened enough for Eira to feel a cold, sharp touch against her earlobe. Not lips. It felt like…thorns.

 ** _And here I thought you were just starving for affection._**

Eira screeched. Mani was long gone, but Eira scrabbled at her head to get that voice out of her skull. Sickly sweet, like syrup cloying the tissues of her brain. She could _taste_ it in the back of her throat. Rushing dark heat flooded her body until she finally calmed down, lying sedated on the ground, mouth open as saliva trailed from her lips. What a beautiful feeling. What a beautiful thing to be shattered.

Wonderful.

 ** _I guess I was wrong._**

She was so, so right.

* * *

Anna's recovery was coming along even better than she could have hoped.

"There's some atrophy in your muscles," Sol had said, her face bathed in the golden glow of her healing magic. "But that's to be expected, since you haven't been moving at all for, what, months now? Sitting around does that to you. I can reverse it, and that should speed things up!"

"Is that healthy?" Alek asked.

"It's healthier than your brother's legs will ever be, that useless invalid," Sol said.

Anna gripped Alek's arm tightly and gestured for him to stay quiet.

Sol stilled, eyes glazed over with a murky film, and Anna waited through the tense silence. Eventually, Sol shook her head. Her eyes cleared, and her voice softened to its usual dulcet tone. Just like nothing had happened. "Sorry, what were we talking about? I must have dozed off for a second. Gosh, it _is_ a little stuffy in here. Maybe we ought to get a drink. Do you two need some water or anything—"

"Alek was wondering if healing my legs with magic is healthy."

"Oh! Don't worry, I won't heal it all at once. That'd be like seeing a flower with brown petals and _drowning_ it. You water it slowly."

Alek snorted. "I can't believe someone is comparing Anna to a flower of all things."

Anna punched him on the arm.

With Alek's help, she could stand on her own within the week, and the braces became necessary only if she was standing for more than ten or fifteen minutes. According to Sol, the process would only become faster once she started periodic healings. And she was right. It had been a little uncomfortable during the first healing, and she'd understood why Sol had said the healings needed to be slow—Anna had felt her unused muscles tightening and expanding as her blood rushing through with unsettling vigor. It felt oddly like having growing pains all over again, and she remembered with distaste the years of oily skin and lanky limbs.

But she managed to walk three steps.

It seemed an underwhelming feat, but those three steps had felt like freedom.

"Let me show you!" Anna said.

Elsa instinctively took a step forward, but then she stopped herself and stood back, hands clasped at her front. "Show me," she said, and her only form of help was an encouraging smile.

Anna stood from her wheelchair, barely wobbling anymore, and she only braced herself on the wheelchair's arm for a second before she was standing completely on her own. She took a step forward, and the motion was much more deliberate than it should be—she had to focus on the arc of her leg, the tensing of her thigh, the bend of her knee, the positioning of her heel—but she did it. She took another step, before shooting a wide grin at Elsa.

"See! I'm walking! Oh, but some help, please. I don't think I can make it all the way to bed."

Elsa took her hand, and together they walked, slowly, to bed. Anna sat down heavily, letting out a breath she didn't realize she had held.

"I'm not supposed to hold my breath while I walk," Anna said. "But I can't help it, since it keeps me balanced."

"Give it time," Elsa said. "This is already miraculously fast."

"It helps that Sol is healing me."

"I'd rather she not be doing anything to you, but…I won't say anything about it if it helps."

Anna didn't say anything either, but she, too, was starting to see something…off, about Sol. She had odd mood swings. Though it came at irregular times, she had a tendency to vacillate from her usual, cheerful self to something that seemed much uglier, much crueler. Not just when she had snapped at Alek. Elsa had asked more about the history of the Golden Flower, and Sol's first response had been to stare at her with haughty eyes and say she _might_ answer if Elsa dropped to her knees and begged. Still, that might have been latent aggressiveness towards Elsa. Another time, Felix, a trainee, had dropped a cup—and Sol had launched into a nonsensical rant about people not giving their all in what they did.

She didn't necessarily think any worse of Sol. Anna honestly wasn't sure that Sol was _aware_ of this second persona, and even Elsa agreed on this point; Sol would always snap back into reality like she was waking up from some daydream, and she would carry on with previous conversations like she had never left it. Anna wanted to bring this up, but she had yet to think of a tactful way to approach it.

"So," Anna said. "What've you been doing?"

Elsa scoffed. "Assuming he's not too preoccupied with his little prodigy, Judus probably wants me dissected to examine my magic. But since he can't do that, he's only been sending me out to investigate. I'm not sure if he hopes I'll get rid of his problems, or if he hopes his problems will get rid of me."

"I'm pretty sure there's nothing out there that can get rid of you," Anna said, smiling.

"No," Elsa agreed. "But I'll admit, Judus has good information. More than I would have been able to obtain from Friderich. Judus hides half of whatever he learns."

"Tell me about it?"

"Apparently, the Red Tempest movement was started _here_ , not the Southern Isles." Elsa frowned. "Odd, considering what they claim to worship, but if anything, that just proves you're not really at fault for this cult. Someone is just using your image to further their own goals."

"I…see."

"Judus suspects a man named Taranis, who's infamous now for kidnapping Eira, the daughter of a wealthy merchant," Elsa continued. "Gwen was looking for information on his location that time we saw her at the marketplace, though her way of doing things is…far from helpful. I've been told that Taranis has been opposing the Order for a decade. But from what I can tell, he was mostly organizing protests, making petitions, trying to get an audience with the king and queen. It wasn't until a few years ago that his efforts actually turned violent. I imagine Judus having done something to provoke the change."

"Elsa," Anna said, and Elsa paused. She bit her lip, but the thought had taken root already. "Are we— I mean, I've been thinking— Are we really working with the good guys, right now? Is it that simple?"

"I…" Elsa tilted her head. "Why do you ask?"

"I like the people here. Everybody's been really kind," Anna said, choosing to ignore Gwen and, possibly, Judus. "But I remember that night, when I ran off, I ran into this girl named Morgan. She…wasn't trying to hurt me. I mean, she wanted to take me somewhere, but she didn't seem to have bad intentions."

"That seems more than bad enough."

"I know, I know. I can't explain it. Intuition, maybe, but I just think…these people…they can't all be bad. Alek told me about what he saw in the Southern Isles, and how he was attacked, and I keep thinking, that boy, Ayden—he _saved_ Alek. Right? He didn't need to let Alek live. And the fact that they're all suddenly gathered together again, from that orphanage, and suddenly have magic. Maybe it's like you said, and someone is just using these people."

"It does seem as though there's more going on than we know," Elsa agreed. "All of these things are happening around us, and we're being forced to play along."

"Exactly!" Anna snapped her fingers. "That's it, I couldn't put words to it, but that's it. Everything seems arranged. Like we're caught in some web. Like someone is pulling the strings and making all the decisions for us."

"That…does seem to be true." Elsa frowned. "But things are never simple. It's best to keep in the present, and once we know more, we can decide what to do from there."

Anna nodded absently, her mind already hard at work conjuring a thousand theories. All of these people like her, all of these incidents revolving around her. Everything that was happening…

Who was behind it all?

* * *

"Repent your sins, and embrace the Goddess."

Taranis didn't believe a word that he was saying, unlike the misguided children. Ayden less so, but Morgan had turned Queen Anna into a living incarnation of her narrow-minded justice. Brennus, especially, beheld Queen Anna like a zealous lover pining for his beloved. Even Eira, otherwise blithely uncaring, found a certain delight in this newfound religion—though her faith was only the excitement of a child confronted with a new plaything. All of them were misguided, but that was the beauty of belief, the power of religion. What _was_ Queen Anna? Nothing substantial. Just something each of them could impose their insecurities and weaknesses on, something they could mold to their own desires.

Anna was only the goddess of their selfish idolatry.

Taranis had found a _real_ goddess, one who lived and breathed and existed. She was the one who had found him while he was lost in the dregs of despair, and blessed him with the power to take revenge. Taranis would never forget the fae-like creature that appeared before him, a wraith wrapped in bandages, a spectre with an abyss in its eye and eternity on its tongue.

Mani.

"As long as you believe, you shall be granted deliverance from earthly pain."

Those had been her words, once.

Now he was the one telling it to a mewling crowd, and they bowed and scraped and keened. They weren't people anymore. Victims of serglige who had found their way here, attracted to the power of the dark heart wielded by Mani. It resonated with the despair that plagued them. It resonated with _Anna_ , too, who should have been their sister-in-arms. All of them, blessed by the same magic.

"Drink, and you will become our brothers and sisters."

Eira bounded off her perch and passed a goblet to the thronging mass. Each one drank, and their keening wails became howls of relief once the ever-present pain was replaced with euphoria. How lucky they were, Taranis thought. To be mindless. To be sheep under a shepherd. His work was done, then.

 ** _How does it feel to have a new family?_**

"My real family is dead," Taranis said, and Mani cocked her head. She was up on the roof again. It was an odd quirk of hers, always sitting in high places. "Judus made sure of it. Everyone here…I think of them as disposable. As do you, I assume."

 ** _Of course not! Everyone is important._**

"Even Eira?"

She was annoying.

No matter how much she tried, Eira would never throw off the marks of her high birth. She could neglect her appearance, until her previously lustrous hair was like straw, until her flawless skin was marred by black circles around her eyes, but her poise was something she could never disguise. Her ballerina walk would always betray her birth. Her words would always betray her education.

People like her could never replace his friends who had died for the sake of justice. When Judus had raided the home of General Culann, Taranis knew that he needed to speak out. One good person in the royal court, and Judus had murdered his entire family. Had said that he resisted arrest, knowing that his so-called conspiracy had been revealed. And then, Taranis and his friends had rioted—

He would never forget being bound before a firing squad, seeing his impending death on the other end of a drawn bow. He would never forget crawling out of a ditch, climbing over the corpses that had been his friends, seeing listless eyes and limp limbs. Why did he have to survive, he had wondered.

"Mani?"

She was gone by the time he left the hell of his memories.

Taranis had no inkling what she was, and sometimes he thought she might not even be human. It wouldn't be surprising to find a monster under that cover of bandages and lies. But then again…

In the end, monsters were only human.

* * *

Rapunzel fell to the ground, and she barely had a moment to catch her breath before she rolled away from a sword. She sprang to her feet, arm outstretched and sword at the ready; but the flat of her opponent's blade struck her on the hand, and before her own weapon had even fallen, the sword was poised at her throat.

"I give up," Rapunzel said. She backed away, gasping for air and clutching her sides. Around them, there were other pairs of trainees sparring. None of them were quite as vicious as her partner.

"Don't turn your back on an enemy," Gwen said, but she drew back her sword – thankfully a wooden practice one, or Rapunzel might have been missing a limb – and tossed her a canteen.

Rapunzel drank greedily. She'd never thought water could taste so sweet, but she thought she might cry as it soothed her parched throat. "Oh, come on, we're not really _enemies_. I'm learning."

"You may as well use a frying pan instead of a sword."

It wasn't very often that people talked to her like that, and Rapunzel grinned behind her canteen. Even Gwen had avoided harsh insults until recently, but apparently, sparring for weeks had made her comfortable enough to talk to the Crown Princess like she was an idiot—which Gwen called her often. It probably shouldn't have been as funny as she found it, but considering that Gwen just got angrier when she laughed off her insults…

"You two aren't taking this seriously enough," Naomi said, and Rapunzel gave her full attention.

Naomi was supposedly in her fifties, being one of the first-generation veterans along with Lazarus, but aside from a head of white hair and an imperious aura of death, Rapunzel honestly saw very little remotely near that age in Naomi. She had been watching them spar, arms crossed and frowning so deeply that crow's feet appeared at the corners of her eyes, but she was as alert as a hawk and with twice the speed. There was no way someone in their fifties should be able to move that fast, or hit that hard. Rapunzel would have admired her, except for her perpetually cold attitude.

"If I took this seriously, I might be charged for regicide," Gwen said. "Why can't I be doing something other than babysitting the pampered princess? Or if I have to train, why not with Valen?"

"Valen is taking tea with Sir Judus, and _you_ are here to learn patience that you obviously lack. While we're here, I may as well tell you to learn some tact and watch your tongue. And, Your Highness," Naomi said, turning on Rapunzel just as she started grinning, "I hope you realize Gwen could have killed you seconds into that fight. Your form is sloppy and worse, you seem not to recognize your weakness."

That sobered her up.

Naomi flicked her fingers like she was warding off insects. "I have my own matters to take care of. Gwen, continue training with Princess Rapunzel. Both of you need work on the foundations."

She left without another word. Rapunzel could practically see a cloud of frustration circling her head, and she wondered what was bothering Naomi. She had always been a little standoffish, but Rapunzel didn't know her to be so…abrasive. When she was still a child, Naomi had actually given her sweets. Not to mention how preoccupied she seemed. Naomi had been watching them fight, commentating on their form, correcting their stance, but despite that, her mind was clearly on something else. Rapunzel didn't think the frown had left for face for even a second.

"We're done for today," Gwen said as soon as Naomi was gone.

"Uhh…sure." Rapunzel shadowed Gwen while she collected her coat, and then followed her as she left, ignoring her disgruntled huff. "But do you know what's wrong with Naomi? She just seems a bit…"

"Kaleb has been missing for a while now." Gwen sneered, but this was news to Rapunzel. No one from the castle had known that the Order suffered any casualties, let alone Naomi's sole student. "Naomi's still looking for him, but by now he's probably dead. Or dying, at least."

"Do you have to sound so flippant?" Rapunzel stepped in front of Gwen, blocking her path, and they met each other's gaze with an identical glare. "Shouldn't you be worried too?"

"Why? Just because we're both from the Order?"

"Because he's a _person_."

At least Gwen had the decency to look halfway uncomfortable, but she kept up eye contact and, clearly, she didn't think she was wrong. "Look, I'm not _happy_ about it, but I didn't know him at all. Is it wrong that I'm not upset? Am I supposed to start crying over him? Go crazy looking for him? Maybe if it were _Valen_ , but—"

Gwen clamped her mouth shut, but Rapunzel had already heard and she stared with wide eyes. "Wow, I didn't know you cared about him that much."

"I don't." Gwen shoved past. "I'm done answering questions, I have actually _important_ things to do. I've been stuck at this rank long enough. I refuse to be an Entered Apprentice."

Rapunzel sighed. Hopefully Gwen wasn't on her way to doing something reckless, but seeing her squared shoulders and general air of murder, she doubted it could be anything good. She was looking a lot like Naomi, actually. What was it about the Order that stressed everyone out so much?

"Hey, 'Punzel!"

She looked in the direction her name was called.

"Oh, Sol!"

It wasn't the first time she had met up with her rescuer since taking up residence at the Temple, and Rapunzel was growing increasingly fond of Sol. Elsa had mentioned offhandedly that Sol was suspicious, but—Rapunzel didn't feel that way. Out of everyone here, she was the most open, the most helpful, and Rapunzel knew with absolute certainty that Sol's care was genuine. She could feel it. She made no assumptions about her genuineness towards the others, even towards Anna, because despite what some people might say, Rapunzel wasn't stupid. It was obvious enough that Sol had motives that no one knew, but Rapunzel was certain that in her case, Sol truly, deeply cared. When Sol had saved her that time, Rapunzel had seen something there, vulnerable, genuine, and even now—she could see it.

Rapunzel wouldn't be able to put words to it, but she had instinctively realized that Sol's voice was less deliberate in its cheeriness, and her smile was gentler than the ones she put on for other people.

"What are you up to all alone?" Sol asked.

"Naomi and Gwen ditched me." Rapunzel sighed when Sol laughed. "Now I dunno what to do."

"Maybe we could go skip stones? Or we could play with the horses…"

Rapunzel beamed. "I used to do that with Chryssa!"

"You…remember that?" Sol made a noise that was halfway between a cough and a laugh. "Wow, that was…I mean, that must have been…years ago. Right?"

"Yeah…I wasn't well enough to do that stuff often," Rapunzel said. Of course she remembered. It was only a few times, maybe once every few months, but…that just made the memory more precious.

Sol smiled. "I'd like to do that, but shouldn't you be spending your time productively?"

"How?"

"Do you…know why your father sent you here?" Sol asked, and Rapunzel shook her head mutely.

Sol looked around and Rapunzel followed suit, not quite knowing the reason. They were still outside, and there were less people around now than early afternoon but still enough to overhear should they speak; Sol took her arm and gently led her away, out of the training grounds and to the gardens. They claimed one of the empty pagodas along the path, and to Rapunzel's surprise, they simultaneously sat on the railing instead of the bench. Only, Rapunzel was sitting inside, and Sol sat with her legs hanging over the outside edge so they dangled over the artificial pond.

"How do you know why Papa sent me here?" Rapunzel asked.

"It's not hard to reason it out," Sol said. "Here's an adage for you: A king ruling from his high mountain is far from his subjects. Do you get it now?"

"I…still don't get it."

"Haven't you noticed how little the royal family knows about what goes on here? You don't know much of the information the Order has gathered about the Red Tempest. You didn't know that _I_ was here, and I happen to have magic. To all the people here, your father may as well not exist. But…think. What does the Order of the Rose call Judus?"

"Master Judus."

"And who do you think they think of as their king, Friderich…or their Master Judus?"

Rapunzel felt her breath hitch. "Wait, are you saying that—"

"It's just a precaution," Sol said, but the warning in her voice made it clear that it was more. "I assume your father has been wary of Judus for a long time, and for good reason. He craves power and hoards talent, and…heh. It's pretty pathetic, actually. Did you know he's a eunuch?"

"A…what?"

"He's been castrated," Sol said.

Rapunzel honestly thought she might vomit.

"Just half a man," Sol continued, lips curling into a small smile. "Back in your great-grandfather's day, Judus was a servant, and being a man around all the royal concubines…well, they had to make sure he wouldn't do anything. Besides, a man who can't have children ought to be loyal. It's not like he'll have anyone to pass on anything he gets, like, say, the throne? Oh, but he probably wants it anyway. I think," Sol laughed, "I think he wants me to try to heal him once we get the Golden Flower. Isn't that just sad?"

"I think it _is_ sad, but…not the way you think it's sad."

"Just be careful," Sol said. "Your father wants you here to remind people that they do have a monarch, and a princess who will be queen someday. So…try to build connections. Make alliances. You've done well, though, even not knowing all this. I think the younger ones look up to you."

"You're on my side, right?" Rapunzel asked. Sol just looked at her blankly, and Rapunzel added, "I mean, you saved me before and you took the trouble to warn me about all this, so you have to be, right?"

"Yes," Sol said, slowly. "I'm on your side. I…"

Rapunzel smiled. "Well, I'm glad."

Sol wasn't smiling. "You should be more careful about who you trust."

"I trust you." Rapunzel flushed, having spoken more quickly than she meant to. It must have sounded childish. "I mean, I just do. Like, it feels natural. Like…I _should_ trust you."

"…I'm glad." Sol brightened. "You know, you're kind of unsettling. I'd almost go so far as to say that you're a liiiiittle creepy. Just a little."

"Elsa said that about _you_."

"Hmm, I'm not surprised."

Sol bounded off her seat, but not back inside the pagoda. Rapunzel raced for the edge as soon as she realized, but Sol had already leapt outwards, towards the pond; but instead of hitting the water and sinking, she just…landed. Like she was landing on flat ground. Rapunzel watched, open-mouthed, as Sol walked on the water like it was as natural as breathing. There were little ripples on the pond where she stepped, but she may as well have been a weightless feather drifting on its surface.

"If you trust me, then I'd recommend following Gwen. I think she's up to something super interesting!"

Rapunzel figured she might as well.

She blinked, and Sol was gone.

* * *

Rapunzel had never visited the library and its archives before, and as she timidly stepped inside for the first time, she discovered it wasn't much like what she had expected.

Contrary to her expectation, the library wasn't just a dusty, antiquated place full of yellowing scrolls that no one opened. But then, it stood to reason that the Order took good care of its libraries, just as it did every other facility. At the very back, inside locked chambers that required clearance to enter, were the archives. It was a semicircle of shelves upon shelves, stacked until they towered at least fifteen feet, each one clearly marked by date and event and filled to the brim with scrolls. Not all of these were paper; some scrolls were made of wood and written in dozens of foreign languages.

But she didn't come here to ogle the sheer volume of information. Rapunzel eyed her target, who was currently scaling the ladder towards the shelf marked _Red Tempest_.

"Hey! Whatcha doing?"

Gwen whirled around.

"I followed you here," Rapunzel said by way of explanation.

"Obviously, but that—that doesn't tell me _why_ you're here," Gwen hissed, lowering her volume halfway through her sentence. "Whatever, I don't even care. Just leave."

"Why don't _you_ tell me why you're here?" Rapunzel said. "It's not like you can kick me out. You'd have to explain what you're doing here in the first place… _without clearance._ "

Rapunzel had entered on the merit of her nobility.

On the other hand, she had seen Gwen sneaking in.

"You…You're blackmailing me?" Gwen asked. Surprisingly, she didn't sound the slightest bit angry. Instead she seemed half-incredulous and half-impressed, like Rapunzel had passed some sort of backwards test. "I didn't think you had it in you to be so…cunning."

"No, I just want to help."

Gwen stared. "What do you even think I'm doing? And what makes you think you can help?"

"You're investigating the attacks, right?" Rapunzel grinned when Gwen frowned in confirmation. "Since you want to be promoted, that would make sense you're looking for clues."

"All right, I guess you're not completely idiotic. But that doesn't say anything about what you can do to help. I'm not lugging you along with me if you have nothing to contribute."

"I was there during that first attack at the café," Rapunzel said. Gwen eyed her carefully, and Rapunzel knew she had already piqued her interest. "Firsthand experience you don't have."

"What do you think I'm doing here?"

"I'm pretty sure I know more than some random people copying down secondhand accounts."

"What is this even about?" Gwen asked. She looked to her side, chewing on her lip as she thought, and her ponytail flicked in time with the movement of her head. "You… What do you get out of this?"

"I want to know who almost killed me."

Sol had brought up a good point about familiarizing herself with the trainees of the Order, and that _was_ what sparked her initiative to join Gwen; but Rapunzel really did want to know. She had almost died that day. She could still remember the smell of burnt flesh, the sting of smoke in her eyes, and she had been a second away from being burned into an unrecognizable corpse. If not for Sol, she'd be dead.

"…Fine," Gwen said. "Like you said, I can't take you back without being stopped myself."

Gwen slid out a bundle of papers from the shelf and descended. Without a care for their preservation, she flourished them heavily to flatten them out, and Rapunzel leaned over her shoulder to see.

"Tell me if these are accurate."

"Whoa, these are _…_ detailed."

These drawings were perfect. Never mind the scenes of the other attacks. Just looking at the explosion of the café—Rapunzel didn't remember half the things depicted here, but no one could have imagined something so meticulously detailed. Each person in the crowd had a different face, with different expressions, with different attire. Every inch of the ground was drawn to include the smallest piece of debris. Even Rapunzel was there, with Sol, and that part she could testify as completely accurate. Her clothing, the wounds on Sol. It was as if the artist had just…moved that entire scene onto paper.

"It's…probably more accurate than what I could've told you," Rapunzel admitted, and Gwen frowned. "Who even _drew_ these things?"

"Sol," Gwen said. "According to other people, she has perfect recall."

"Oh. Huh, that would come in so handy when I'm studying…"

"Whatever." Gwen stuffed the drawings into her pocket. "I'm going to these places to see them for myself. You can stay here—"

"Awesome, I'll come with you!"

Gwen let out an exasperated sigh, and they left the library—Rapunzel from the main exit, and Gwen using some hidden path that Rapunzel hadn't known about. She followed Gwen to a back entrance of the Temple, one that cut into the forest. Yet another route that Rapunzel didn't know about. After enduring another round of Gwen trying to dissuade her from joining her investigation, she finally convinced her to let her stay by asking about how exactly she knew all these hidden paths.

Of course, she could already guess; Valen was well known for coming and going at the oddest times of the day. It was sweet, though, that Gwen didn't say anything to incriminate him. No wonder Valen always said good things about Gwen, and Rapunzel vowed never to doubt him again.

Except when he was acting like an extremely inappropriate parent. One time, with tears in his eyes, he had told her that she was "growing up so fast" and that she should feel free about sharing any "budding feelings of sexuality, barring anything weird." No way was she _ever_ going to him for advice.

"Fine," Gwen said. "You can come along if you want, but I'm not slowing down for you."

"All right, I get it. Before that, though…I think we need to do something about your look?"

Gwen was still dressed in her white coat, and that was tantamount to screaming she was part of the Order. Rapunzel seriously doubted she could get any information while dressed like that, and after pointing it out and arguing for a good five minutes, she finally convinced Gwen to shed her coat and let down her hair. She hadn't realized how odd it would be to see Gwen dressed casually. Somehow, she looked less threatening. Maybe because Gwen seemed so uncomfortable; Rapunzel stifled a laugh at seeing her play with a non-existent collar, try to stick her hands in non-existent pockets.

"People will still recognize me," Gwen said.

"I think you _might_ be overestimating your infamy," Rapunzel said. "Seriously, you look so different I think even I'd have a hard time picking you out."

"Does it look…bad?"

Rapunzel had heard her loud and clear, but sheer incredulity overcame any answer she might have been able to articulate. Gwen was the last person she would have expected that question from. All she managed to say was, "What?" And Gwen was offended. Rapunzel didn't blame her this time.

"Forget it," Gwen said curtly, but she had barely taken a step before Rapunzel latched on to her arm.

"No! Sorry, I was just surprised you would care about that sort of…thing." Rapunzel let go with an uneasy laugh. "You look good though. I mean, you've always been pretty but now you're less…scary."

"…Uh-huh."

Gwen set off without another word, and Rapunzel hurried to follow. Talking to her was like prodding a tiger—Rapunzel had no idea whether she was going to get her head bitten off. Still, she was pretty sure she'd said the right thing.

Assuming she wasn't just imagining it, there had been a smile on Gwen's face.


	10. A Damned Saint

**a/n:** I know I've been gone a while... I blame classes. Also, I'm applying to work on an honors thesis next year! About absurdist literature! Yay!

* * *

 **Chapter 10: A Damned Saint**

Rapunzel decided she was starting to like Gwen.

It was startling how different she was outside of spars and the occasional run-in at the dormitories, where Rapunzel had witnessed Gwen's infamous venom and her penchant for lording over others with her admittedly prodigious talent. But now, outside of the Temple, she was…just a little different. Just as blunt and just as tactless, but that translated into frank, straightforward conversation rather than insults. Maybe her newfound pleasantness, if it could be called that, was for the sake of speeding things along; but all the same, Gwen had failed to make even one derogatory comment despite the holes in Rapunzel's knowledge of the Red Tempest. Instead Gwen had very succinctly explained, and such a simple act shouldn't have been shocking—but for Gwen, bothering to do it at all was absolutely amazing.

"So, just to reiterate, the places that have been attacked…" Rapunzel counted on her fingers. "That's the café, the library, the clock tower, the cathedral, a couple of monuments…that one place…"

"There's no pattern to the locations or times, as far as anyone can tell." Gwen marched forward, but her usual poise was broken by a strange habit of playing with her hair while it was let down. "We'll just have to go to each one."

First they had visited the latest attacked sites, but their efforts yielded little information. At 'that one place' – which was a public park meant to honor some saint whose name Rapunzel could not pronounce because of the abundance of consonants without vowels – curious visitors were milling around the wreck like their loitering would magically give them answers. Questioning hadn't been informative, though one unlucky man, most likely slightly inebriated, had tried to grope Gwen and nearly had his arm broken before Rapunzel intervened. Other people were lackadaisical in their answers.

"Yes, I was here on the day of the explosion," said one man. "At least, just outside. I didn't make it inside yet, luckily. There's not a whole lot to say, just that people started crowding around outside."

"I don't suppose you remember anyone suspicious," Gwen said.

"No, too many people there. I remember the baker who lives close by me…some people who work at the docks…oh, and that one man who runs around selling frankfurters…even my landlord."

Nor had their excursion to the clock tower offered anything useful. Restoration was still taking place, and though the damage wasn't nearly severe enough to topple it, scaffolding was situated all around the base so workers could replace the melted stone. Gwen and Rapunzel had made their way inside to the stairwell. Sheeting was draped over the steps, and at Gwen's suggestion – phrased much more like a command – they had removed it to see the damage.

"Is it just me, or does that look like…"

"Human shadows," Gwen finished.

There were imprints burnt into the stone. Rapunzel could clearly see the outlines of the people who had died here. Like an absurd map, or a bizarre graveyard. Along the stairwell, along the walls, blackened shadows of what had once been real people. She could count them if she wanted to.

Next was the library, and the situation there was similar enough. People who didn't quite know what was going on, the same testimony of different random people being there on the day of the explosion, another citing of the frankfurter man, and human shadows burned into stone. Adults and children both, men and women, all sorts of people of all different shapes and sizes, immortalized by flame.

"Is this bothering you?" Gwen asked.

"No. Yes. I mean…" Rapunzel repressed a shiver, but the chill crawling down her spine seemed like it might never leave. "That could have been me."

Gwen nodded.

Finally they visited the wreckage of the café, and while Rapunzel fought off shudders from her close shave with death, Gwen stepped past the blockade to examine the remains. Any bodies that had survived intact had been moved away, something Gwen described as unfortunate, but Rapunzel watched as she knelt in the ashes looking for anything of note. She had done this at the other sites, but it was still a strange sight. She didn't think Gwen would be willing to do something so undignified, and maybe she wouldn't have, if she were still in her white coat. She wore it like armor against the world.

"Is it even likely we'll find anything? I mean, anything that hasn't been found already."

"Anything. Nothing's been found."

"Wait, what?"

"Like I said, nothing's been found, because nothing's been done." Gwen turned, her displeasure obvious. "Master Judus hasn't allowed anyone to investigate. All we've been doing is…hmm. I couldn't tell you. I think what we've done today is the most _anyone_ has done, aside from those drawings."

Gwen continued sifting through the ashes.

"I don't think we're going to find any remains from an explosive," Rapunzel said, but she continued searching just for completion's sake. They had done it at all the other sites, and each time, there had been nothing. "I'm sure it was magic, just like all the other places. There was a phoenix burned into the ground and everything."

"There was something I meant to ask, actually," Gwen said. "You mentioned that Sol suddenly showed up to save you, right?"

"Yeah."

"Did she say how she knew it was going to happen?"

"No," Rapunzel said. "I was curious too. I asked, actually, when she first saved me, but then she just vanished. Oh, but I didn't know she was part of the Order back then. Afterwards, I just assumed she had been sent to help me, or something. Like the Order had gotten wind of it somehow."

"Not that I know of," Gwen said. "She's getting more and more suspicious."

"You really don't like her at all, do you?"

"No. She's a snake, and you'd be able to tell if you hang around long enough to notice how everyone, even Uriah, follows her orders. It's not natural." Gwen snorted. "Don't get me wrong, I might think she's faking her whole angelic thing, but I don't think she's behind everything. That'd just be overestimating…"

Rapunzel turned, and she could only see Gwen's back but she had clearly frozen.

"Is something wrong?"

"Hey, Rapunzel." Gwen turned her head, only her head and not the rest of her body, and the motion looked uncomfortable enough that it had to be deliberate. "Do you mind looking over there for me?"

"S…ure?"

Being asked anything so politely was strange enough that Rapunzel decided to just do it. She looked away from Gwen and scooted to that spot, continuing to sift through the ashes for a few more minutes.

She would fail to see Gwen slide something up her sleeve.

"I think we're done here," Gwen announced.

"Is something wrong?"

"What?" Gwen said sharply.

"I mean…" Rapunzel shrugged. "I don't know. You just seem a little tense all of a sudden, so I was wondering if something was bothering you."

"Absolutely nothing. And, incidentally, that's what we found—absolutely nothing. Of course, no one can actually tell us anything useful either, except for some stupid babble."

"Well, everyone mentioned some frankfurter man," Rapunzel quipped.

Wait.

Frankfurters.

She almost tore the drawings in her haste to unravel them, but there he was, in every drawing—Flynn Ryder. Rapunzel remembered seeing him that day, and she easily picked him out in the crowd outside the café. And at the back corner of the crowd outside the clock tower, there he was again, his features obscured by a hat but obvious once she knew to look for them. And then outside the library, and then again outside the park, looking on the events each time without the surprise on everyone else's faces, without even his distinctive enthusiasm. Only grim composure, like he was made of stone.

"Look," Rapunzel said, and she pointed him out to Gwen.

"It…might be that he's the person making this happen. After all, whether it's magic or an explosive, _someone_ needs to transport it." Gwen's eyes widened with predatory delight. "If that's true, then it would make sense that he might stick around to watch. Some sort of sick pleasure in admiring his work?"

"I…can't quite imagine Flynn Ryder being behind all this."

"It can't be coincidence that he's at every one of these places at the right time."

"All right, that makes sense. I think he's usually at the market around this time, so I guess…I'll lead you to him?" Rapunzel held back a sigh. She really hoped he wasn't involved. Flynn Ryder had been eccentric, and maybe more than a little irritating, but she couldn't see him as _dangerous_.

"Do that," Gwen said, and she'd taken two steps before she stopped and looked back, looking painfully unsure. "And…I'm glad we did this. People don't usually…I mean, I don't…I don't usually have…"

"It's fine, I get what you're saying," Rapunzel said.

She smiled.

"Let's go!"

* * *

"Frankfurters! Buy one get one free! Hell, you can take _me_ home too!"

If this man were guilty, Rapunzel thought, she would probably lose faith in all humanity. She would probably stop trusting _herself_ if someone could act that well. Flynn Ryder was standing innocuously in the middle of the marketplace, waving a giant, probably indecent sign around, his cart at his side and frankfurters sizzling on the grill. Gwen seemed more dangerous than he could ever be, dressed in her coat again and expression hardened until it was as cutting as steel. Her hand was wrapped around the hilt of her sword, ready to draw it at a moment's notice.

It was like that smaller, friendlier side of her had vanished as soon as she wore the white coat again.

"Hey there," Flynn said, either not noticing or not acknowledging the way Gwen was stalking towards him. "I can't believe someone is taking me up on my offer, but I'm gonna have to apologize about false advertising. I'm my own man—"

"I'm taking you into custody under suspicion of being involved in the recent attacks," Gwen said.

Flynn paused. Slowly, he lowered his sign.

"I think you've got something wrong," Flynn said, twirling his finger over his head and making a coo-coo noise. When Gwen didn't respond, he looked towards Rapunzel. "Hey, I remember you! We know each other pretty well. Tell her she's got this wrong, because I'm as innocent as a babe."

"It _is_ a little suspicious that you just happened to be at every incident," Rapunzel said.

"I was spreading the word about our Lord and Savior, the Almighty Frankfurter?"

"All right, that's enough," Gwen said.

She put her hand on Flynn's arm, and all hell broke loose.

Flynn broke out of her grasp and, when Gwen tried once again to seize him, deflected her arm with a much too practiced movement; and then before anyone could react, he fled.

"Everyone out of the way!" Gwen yelled.

Rapunzel hurried to follow as Gwen chased after Flynn. She would never have thought he could move so agilely, but he was clearly outstripping Gwen. No matter what obstacle was in his way, he fluidly moved past without slowing his pace or even causing a disturbance; he weaved his way through crowds, leapt over wheelbarrows and carts, ducked under railings and construction, and rather than slow down when turning corners, he would kick off the wall before resuming his breakneck pace.

Gwen cursed as she ran into a passerby, and Rapunzel caught up, gave a rushed apology to the poor lady, and sped Gwen down an alleyway.

"Trust me, this intersects with the path he's on," Rapunzel said, and Gwen offered no more complaint. Instead, she scaled the window ledges of a housing unit and flung herself onto the roof to pursue.

Her heart was pounding as she gave chase; Rapunzel couldn't think of any reason other than guilt that would make someone run. Only adrenaline was fueling her to ignore the growing stitch in her side. Rapunzel could see Flynn straight ahead, just passing the exit of the alley she was in, and she lowered her head and charged. She was so, so close, and then she leapt towards him.

And missed.

Flynn spun out of the way and Rapunzel landed on her hands, wincing from the impact. He opened his mouth to say something—and then Gwen jumped on him from above, landing square on his shoulders and slamming his whole body to the ground. Even then he managed to roll his body and throw her off, but she had already hit hard enough to disorient him. He wouldn't be running again.

Rapunzel scooted upright and watched as Gwen fought with Flynn, and she was amazed that he was holding his own. More than holding his own. He was blocking all her punches and kicks like she was a novice, and he rarely retaliated, only tried to put space between them; but Gwen pushed more and more, grew angrier and angrier as she failed, and eventually her hand went to her sword.

Flynn slammed her hand back down before she could finish drawing, and before Gwen could react, he had shunted her arm away and taken her weapon in one smooth motion.

"Let's call it a day?" Flynn said, holding Gwen's own sword against her throat.

"Put down the sword," Rapunzel whispered.

Flynn turned, and Rapunzel was holding a knife to his gut. She was trembling so hard that the knife shook in her hands; but she stood her ground. Flynn looked down at the knife, then to her, and Rapunzel stared back. He looked sad. She didn't know why, but suddenly he just looked tired.

"You're making a mistake," Flynn said.

"Put down the sword," Rapunzel said again.

After a moment's hesitation, Flynn lowered his arm.

Gwen struck him on the back of the neck, and he crumpled to the ground.

* * *

Brennus watched from above.

Surprising that Gwen and Rapunzel managed to subdue Eugene, but that was for the best. Now he could act without fear of hurting him. His gaze went to Gwen. She wasn't a threat. And Rapunzel…

"Go," Brennus said.

Two shadows flitted down.

* * *

They threw Flynn onto a wheelbarrow with his hands and feet bound.

"Did you really need to put straw on there too?" Gwen asked.

Rapunzel shot him a pitying glance. "We don't know anything for sure, so…I felt bad. At least it's a little more comfortable this way?"

Gwen rolled her eyes.

Two masked figures swept out of the alleyways. They resembled nothing so much as ghouls, cloaked and masked, their feet actually floating off the ground as they were propelled through the air by magic. One of them swung a chain at Gwen, and it wrapped her arms to her body; Rapunzel barely had time to yell before she was grabbed by the other figure.

"Get—off!" Gwen swung herself free and drew her sword, batting away the next swing of the chain; and the figure holding Rapunzel threw her down before rejoining the fight.

 _They have to be Red Tempest._

Rapunzel sputtered for breath as the two ghoulish haunts attacked Gwen together. They were incredibly synchronized; as the one with a chain continued its mad swings, the other ducked and weaved through the web of metal, short knife stabbing for Gwen's vitals. She was doing well until she raised her arm to strike, and the chain snared her wrist; and as it tightened, her hand opened, her sword fell. Rapunzel dashed into the fight and seized the fallen sword, but the knife-wielder deflected her blow with a kick and struck her full in the face. Gwen was flung into a wall, and Rapunzel found herself once again seized by the two masked cultists.

She was being sped away.

Rapunzel screamed and kicked at her kidnapper, but he, or it, was half-shadow, and she felt herself punching and kicking _through_ what felt like a viscous film of grease. She had never felt terror like this. She wondered what these people were planning to _do_ to her once they had her under their power. She wondered if Gwen was even alive, if anyone would know she had been taken at all—

"Hey! Deidre, Naoise!"

Flynn was racing towards them.

"Goddamnit," hissed the ghoul, its voice female – Deidre, then – and Rapunzel was thrown aside again.

Rapunzel scooted towards a wall, whimpering in pain. Her clothes were frayed and blackened where she had been held, and there were angry red burns all along her stomach. But she was so glad she was free. She never wanted to be caught in that shadowy grasp again.

Flynn had caught up to them at a far corner of the docks, moving so fast that Naoise – the one with the knives – did nothing to defend himself when Flynn leapt and kicked him in the chest. Deidre flung her chain at him, and this, he snatched out of the air with his bare hand, ignoring the blood that ran from his torn skin. He jerked the chain towards himself, and Deidre stumbled towards him; Flynn wrapped the chain around her hands with a savage motion, stabbed the sharp end into her back, and flung her into the sea before her scream had even ended. At this sight, Naoise let out a yell and charged him. Flynn stepped back to avoid the first slice, the second, and then he redirected the third—by seizing Naoise's arm, turning his hand, and slamming the knife back into his own gut. Naoise coughed out a globule of blood but Flynn drew out the knife and stabbed him a second time, a third time; before Naoise, too, was thrown into the sea. As the water resettled into its gentle waves, red floated to the surface.

And everything was quiet.

"Are you all right?" Flynn asked.

"I…I…" Rapunzel swallowed. "Th-Thanks. For saving me."

Gwen caught up, panting with exertion, and there was a heavy wound on the side of her head. Rapunzel had never been so glad to see her before; but to her utter surprise, Gwen bypassed Flynn entirely in favor of dropping to the ground next to Rapunzel and checking her for wounds.

"Are you all right?" Gwen demanded.

"Y-Yeah. I think so."

Only then did Gwen turn on Flynn, and it was like she just noticed his presence.

"You're not very good at tying knots," Flynn said, grinning and shaking his freed hands.

"Why didn't you capture them?" Gwen demanded.

Flynn's smile vanished. "Trust me, you have no idea what these people go through. They wouldn't have said anything even if you tortured them. They're too far gone."

"Umm, Flynn." Rapunzel stumbled to her feet. "Wh-Who are you, exactly…?"

Flynn pointed to Gwen's coat.

"Let's just say…I have one of those too."

* * *

"Amazing," Elsa said.

"Look," Rapunzel said, "I had no idea it would be so dangerous."

"Absolutely amazing." Elsa peeled the shadow-burn from her stomach, watching with mild disgust as it squirmed in her hold. Before long, it had frozen and crumbled away to nothing. "It's a wonder that you're still alive, but fortune _does_ favor fools."

Rapunzel was too busy wincing to respond.

Meanwhile, Elsa pondered the impossibility of what she was seeing. Shadow magic. Not just similar to Edmund, not like how Markus and Gustaf and Edmund had shared the ability, but absolutely identical. It _was_ his magic, only apparently transposed to multiple people. She had no idea how that was possible, but that was what she saw. She could never forget the sensation of his magic, the feel of it. Each person's magic had its own distinctive feeling, and when Rapunzel was being helped into the infirmary, practically bleeding that magic—Elsa had thought, for one moment, that it was Edmund walking inside.

"Cut me a break," Rapunzel said. She leaned back in bed, head tilting backwards into her pillow, and started puffing out gusts of air to move her hair out of her eyes. "But hey, you're pretty good at this thing. It doesn't hurt anymore."

"I've had experience. Anna was hurt like this before too," Elsa said.

"Oh."

"Have you spoken to her at all?"

"Not…really." Rapunzel shifted. "How's she doing? I know she's going through therapy and all."

"Much better. She's already walking again, albeit with some difficulty." Elsa debated whether or not she wanted to take a seat. No, she decided. She wasn't going to stay long. "She enjoys your company."

"Yeah, I like her too. She seems nice."

"Seems?"

"I mean—I'm not saying she's not," Rapunzel said. "It's just…"

"I understand your wariness," Elsa said.

"No, I know what happened, Sol told me." Rapunzel chewed on her bottom lip. "It's not her fault, but I guess it's just weird to know…well. I mean, I thought it was some messed up nightmare, but I remember suddenly feeling cold and tired and then everything went blurry, and…knowing that was Anna…"

"I've done horrible things, and you're talking to me now."

"I guess.

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "You sound skeptical. As I recall, you used to hate me."

"Yeah, but you seem more…human, now. Because I know you as a person." Rapunzel shrugged. "Or maybe there's already so much chaos anyway that war doesn't seem out of the ordinary."

"That's surprisingly perceptive."

"I'm not dumb," Rapunzel huffed.

"At one point," Elsa said, as Rapunzel listened with rapt attention, "I had thoughts about unifying everyone by _conquering_ everyone. Markus always taught me about how territories would shift back and forth between the control of all the different kingdoms, and I thought I would stop the endless battles by...ruling them all, I suppose. Or at least, Markus would rule, and I would be his weapon."

"That sounds like a terrible idea."

"In retrospect," Elsa agreed. "But that was the norm. Border skirmishes every other day, tenuous balance between dozens of kingdoms. You might not know it, but Weselton and Corona were almost always in conflict over trade routes, until your mother married into Corona. And Valen, who was a prince in Weselton, was sent here essentially as a hostage. Arendelle was continuously fending off probes at its borders—some by _your_ family. So, taught all that, taught that war was normal…I did what I did."

"So what are you trying to say?"

"Anna lost her inhibitions," Elsa said. "And I'm saying that I can understand, because her perception, her sense of ethics, while warped from when she was rational…wasn't irrational. It can also be completely sensible with context. Ethics, right or wrong…I'm curious whether you can understand the subtlety."

To her credit, Rapunzel didn't try to answer immediately. Instead she sat and mulled over the question, pored over the new information she had gathered. Nor did she ask Elsa to answer before she left, and Elsa was glad for being able to keep her silence. She wouldn't have known either.

But, she thought, she would figure it out.

* * *

"Please wait a moment—!"

She had knocked, and that was more than enough warning.

Gwen stormed into the room, closed the door behind her, and locked it. Sol was looking into a basin of water with her eyes closed and her face set into an expression of deep concentration. Evidently she hadn't wanted to be interrupted, because for an instant, annoyance flashed over her face; but then she recovered, and she looked up with a smile.

"I didn't expect you to visit!" Sol said. "Do you want something to drink? Some tea? You do look kind of stressed, I really think some tea would be good for your complexion—"

"I couldn't find Master Judus, so I came to you instead," Gwen said.

"Whatever about—"

"Who the hell is Flynn Ryder?"

"Just another one of Master Judus's protégés. It's not _that_ strange!"

"Isn't it?"

"Well, he sure doesn't tell you _everything_ , does he?"

"But he'll tell you."

"Oh, no," Sol said. "Master Judus doesn't tell me much more than he does everyone else. I just still happen to know more. But I won't tell you anything! You'd have to _force_ it from me."

"Fine, I don't care," Gwen said. "Second thing, I found _this_ at the wreckage of the café."

She thrust a piece of twisted metal at Sol. Not just any metal, but the fragment of a bomb. She could still smell the gunpowder on it. If it had been the Red Tempest, then there wouldn't have been a need for a bomb. Every other explosion had been the work of magic. All along, she had suspected that the explosion at the café was a different case from the rest—the clock tower, the library, the monument, all of those had been public spaces, but the café was a private business. What was the point, then?

Someone had been trying to kill Rapunzel.

And Sol, being the one to save Rapunzel, must have known this in advance. Flynn, who was apparently part of the Order too, had also been there for whatever ungodly reason.

So then, the person behind it…the person who could command those two…

"Was Master Judus trying to…?"

"Shhhhhhhhhh."

Gwen paused.

"You knoooo—ow," Sol said in a sing-song voice, "I've wanted to say something to you for a long time."

Slowly, Sol rose from her seat.

Gwen swallowed. Something had changed. Her nerves frayed and her hair rose on the back of her neck, as she instinctively perceived danger; but she could neither see nor hear nor touch it. Instead, everything had gone silent. She couldn't hear anything from outside, not the footsteps of other students passing through, not even the crick of the wood from the wind. Something in the air had changed, like it had suddenly twisted and condensed and could just barely flow through her lungs.

"I think it's admirable you're trying so hard," Sol said, smiling sweetly, venom dripping on pink lips. "I know what people say. Your parents were killed in action when you were _so_ young. How old were you? Just seven or eight years old? People pity you, you know. They say you try so hard to advance yourself in the Order because you want to make yourself known, prove that you're the best, to show your parents that you're capable. Because you want them to be proud. I know someone whose parents are alive, and _she_ does everything she can to disappoint their expectations! What a filial daughter _you_ are."

Gwen was frozen. She could do nothing but sit there and listen to those honey-suckled words, like she had been hypnotized. It was horrible to listen to them, but she couldn't leave. She was spellbound.

Sol giggled. "But that doesn't make sense for you to be filial, right? What _I_ think is you ought to be resentful towards your parents. Didn't they leave you by dying? It was their choice to slave away in the Order and risk their lives, even when they knew their duty towards you, their child. That means…they chose to abandon you. They weren't thinking of you at all when they lived, and they _certainly_ weren't thinking of you when they died. No, you didn't matter to them. So they shouldn't matter to you."

"St-Stop it."

Each word felt like a physical blow, like a hand that squeezed her heart.

"There's no one to be proud of you, no one for you to show any of your so-called achievements. Because, Gwen…everyone's left you already."

It hurt.

It hurt to listen.

"St…Stop talking. Stop. Stop it—"

Gwen found herself dragged forward, and Sol's face was inches away.

"If you say anything about this," Sol said, tapping the piece of metal, "Rapunzel will die. All it'll do is provoke Judus, and if Rapunzel dies, I won't just kill you. I'll do something _horrible_ to you. So don't say anything! Actually…I'll make sure you can't say anything about it at all! It's for your own good. Open your mouth, please?"

It was a horrible feeling, to lose control over her own body. Gwen felt her jaw move like someone else was forcing it open, while the rest of her body stiffened like stone had grown over it. She had never known terror until this moment. It wasn't just a girl who was sitting in front of her right now. Those eyes staring into hers—Gwen saw the madness and the power, and worse, wicked enjoyment. Those were the eyes of someone who could not, would not, be stopped. She didn't know what Sol even _wanted_ but whatever it was, she would have it. She would trample anything in her way.

She was a monster in the cradle.

Sol drew a knife from her pocket. As she heated it against candle flame, a lurid light illuminated her face, revealing shadows that hadn't been there before. "Now, stick out your tongue."

Gwen obeyed, screaming silently all the while her body acted on its own.

 _She's going to—_

Sol held up her own hand and cut into her finger until a bead of blood welled to the surface, and before Gwen could even process what was happening, swiped it onto her tongue.

"Let's try not to say anything stupid or accuse anyone of anything, hmm?"

Suddenly she could move again, and Gwen flung herself back, falling to the floor and sputtering for breath. She clutched her throat, half-amazed that she still had a tongue at all, half-angry and fearful.

"What _are_ you?" Gwen screamed.

"Nobody." Sol smiled. "I'm not the hero or the villain of this story."

"What _story—_ "

"I just want to see things happen," Sol said. She opened the blinds of her window and looked out to the sky, her hand placed over her heart. "I want to see the light conquer the darkness. I want to see good win against evil. That's all."

"How can you stand it…?"

"Hmm?"

"How can you stand acting all happy and cheerful and, and…stupid, when you—when you—"

Gwen felt her throat tighten as her windpipe clenched shut, and her words never left her lips. With a growing sense of horror, she realized she would never be able to talk about what had happened. She would never be able to talk about _anything_ without Sol's permission.

"Like I said, I'm only a spectator in this story," Sol said, and then her voice grew cold. "Shouldn't you be leaving? Just make sure to keep Rapunzel safe."

There was no spoken threat there, but the threat didn't need to be said.

Gwen left, with fear of this crazed jester, this mad fool, carved into her soul.

* * *

"Deidre and Naoise are dead."

Mani watched out of the corner of her eye as Brennus paced. Honestly! She had no idea why he cared so much. She would have responded with something like, "Mhm," but she was too busy counting stars. She wondered what made them twinkle. Was it true that the souls of the dead became stars? Did they have some magic too, like the sun and the moon? If she reached hard enough, could she touch them?

"They were disposable," Taranis said. "It's not such a great loss that you should fret."

Oh, Taranis. Who would they be left with if they lost everyone disposable?

"Eugene killed them," Brennus said, and he turned on Mani. "Doesn't it bother you that he's not here, with us? And not just him, but Sol, too. Both of them are with the enemy."

It was _so_ hard to hold back a chortle. While still on her back, she scribbled in her notebook and held it up for them to see. Oops. It was upside down. She flipped the notebook and pushed it forward again.

 ** _What do you want to do?_**

"I believe that now is the time to strike," Brennus said. "We should avenge our fallen comrades. And like I've said before, we need to capture Anna before the Order can make use of her knowledge."

Taranis frowned. "What reason—"

"I believe I can make decisions without your approval," Brennus said.

What happened to not being in charge? But everyone was like that. Once they began to wield authority, authority became second nature; they _became_ authority. Slow change, like how someone could become pure good, or pure evil.

Mani held up her hand to silence Taranis, and she straightened with a languid stretch.

 ** _Okay._**

 ** _Just leave Elsa to me._**

It didn't take long for her to be left alone. Brennus left to make preparations, and Taranis had offered little argument; Mani knew that he secretly yearned for a direct assault on Judus. Everyone yearned for _something_ , and everyone here yearned for something different. She knew their desires and their fears better than even they knew about themselves. But that wasn't hard. Outsiders always knew more, were always more perceptive. Being part of the game, part of the story…was blinding.

"You'd know all about being blind…but that's what I admired about you, being so invested, being…evil. No one will ever come close to you. Despair and misery and pain…you were its distilled essence."

How liberating to talk aloud! She always had so much to say, but so little paper, so little time to write. She freed a dark orb from the cage of her chest, holding it up to the moonlight as the blue flame inside wreathed and writhed. What everyone else called a _dark heart_ , because they didn't know its name.

Reliquary.

But not hers.

Its owner was…

"We'll see each other soon, Edmund."


	11. An Honorable Villain

**WARNING:** Violence, disturbing imagery.

My finals start on Saturday, so wish me luck, please leave a review :D

* * *

 **Chapter 11: An Honorable Villain**

"You're that frankfurter person," Anna said.

"I'm _still_ that frankfurter person," Flynn said. "You think I was joking, but those sausages were amazing. So fresh, so juicy. They were too good for this world. You should've gotten some while I was still in business, lady."

Anna couldn't help but laugh, though it rang with a halfway-eerie echo through the chapter hall. Elsa and Judus were there, and Uriah, too, stood silently in the corner watching them with his listless gaze. It felt like he was there as a bodyguard. His eyes were trained on Elsa, and he had yet to participate in conversation; Anna had the feeling that he wouldn't start any time soon. She'd never heard him speak despite various encounters with him around the monastery.

"Flynn," Judus said. "Tell us what happened."

"Does it need explaining? Gwen jumped me. I didn't realize new members were being taught to mug people for their lunch money."

"I see you've picked up more vile vocabulary." Judus frowned but said no more on the subject. He turned to Anna, decidedly ignoring Elsa. "Flynn has been useful as a more anonymous personality, to gather information and take on more…subtle operations. He's been with me since he was thirteen—"

"It wasn't that long ago, I'm only nineteen years and sixty months old."

"—but as you can see, he acquired some unsavory habits from his informants."

"It's called personality," Flynn said.

"A very colorful one," Anna added.

"Yes, thank you! I tell everyone that, but they just roll their eyes at me. Oh, and congratulations, I noticed that you're not in a wheelchair anymore. Looking good, lady. Knew you could do it."

"Yeah, I can move around pretty freely with crutches now," Anna said, swinging one excitedly. Elsa deftly moved out of the way. "It's a little tiring, but I'm working on walking without them too."

Flynn nodded sagely. "You have to learn to walk before you can learn to fly."

"Didn't you say there was something important?" Elsa asked.

"Oh, right. It's not too much, just…" Flynn sobered. "Red Tempest will attack us soon."

Anna stiffened. As Flynn outlined what he knew of the Red Tempest, their members and their backgrounds, she realized that confrontation was inevitable. What she was doing now…she was hiding, hiding behind anonymity. Didn't she have a responsibility to these people? Whatever had happened to them, their sudden powers, their sudden worship—Anna knew she was at the heart of it.

And they would meet soon, face to face.

When they did, Anna only hoped she would know what to do.

* * *

Days passed in an uneasy trickle. Knights of the Order rounded the boundaries of the Temple from dawn to dusk, in heavier and heavier patrols, though their efforts seemed unwarranted as time passed in utter silence; but anticipation was the worst kind of attack, not on the body but on the mind. Each and every person was on high alert, nerves so frayed that they jumped at the slightest provocation.

But Elsa's anticipation was not a nervous one. In an odd way, she wanted the Red Tempest to come, and she waited not with wariness but relief. Everything they had done thus far had been from the shadows, but this once, they would be striking out in the open. Once they did, she would know who her enemies really were. Once they did, she would be able to root them out and destroy them.

Elsa wanted nothing more to do with these people. She'd had enough of intrigue and plotting, being stalked through the night and being backstabbed from the shadows.

And Anna deserved to have peace.

Elsa knew Anna would refuse to sit on the sidelines. Anna was just that kind of person, one who would want to take responsibility, one who would want to face conflict head-on. If she could do something to help, then she would, regardless of how much it hurt her too. Elsa wanted nothing less.

"You're here," Elsa said, stopping in the middle of the path to her room. There was no one else in her vicinity. Or, at least, no one visible. It didn't mean that no one was there at all, watching her every step.

Surprising, that they chose to act in broad daylight.

"Ohhhhh, you're really good at this."

"I could sense you before you ever made it inside the Temple."

Someone stepped out from the trees, bandaged and cloaked, and Elsa surmised that this one was Mani. There was something utterly vile about her aura. Elsa had the feeling that this was intentional, to throw off her senses by exuding foul magic. Her voice, too, was an ugly warble, like she was speaking through water or heavily diseased. What _was_ under those bandages?

"I was told that you were mute," Elsa said.

"Oh, that. I'm not always actually _there_ with them, I'm a busy person! So the _me_ that they see…doesn't always have vocal cords," Mani said, tapping what seemed to be her throat. Elsa thought it unwise to make assumptions about what lay under her disguise. "Anyway, I'm here to lure you away."

"And why would you need to do that?"

"You're too powerful! It wouldn't be fair for everyone else to have your help right from the start of the game. There wouldn't be any balance."

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "But you think that you'll be able to lure me away."

"Of course," Mani said. She giggled, but the sound was too thin, too raspy, too much like a rattle. "Because I have something that you need. I'll just…ask politely for you to follow me."

She reached under her cloak and behind her back, and when she withdrew her hand—

Elsa took a step forward.

It might have been blackened, like the color and the light had bled out, but what Mani held in her hands was unmistakably the Golden Flower. Even from a distance, Elsa could feel its intoxicating warmth, its honeyed nectar and golden ambrosia flooding her senses with sweetness. Perhaps the power of the Mirror in her heart recognized it, though she didn't know as friend or foe or something in between—maybe a treasured enemy, or a hated friend. Part of Elsa almost feared to approach the Golden Flower at all. She didn't know if she might lose her mind to the drunken euphoria that it promised.

"It's looking a bit dead right now," Mani admitted, thumbing the blackened petals. "But I really do think you should follow me. I promise I'll hand it over once I show you something fun!"

"You would just give it to me?"

"Yes." It was, perhaps, the most serious she had sounded yet. "I don't need it. It'd be in better hands with Anna. She's the one who deserves to have it."

Before Elsa could ask how she came to have it, Mani had turned and fled.

Elsa had only an instant to consider her next action. She could stay here and ward off the attack that was sure to come, but she would lose sight of Mani. She could follow and obtain the Flower, through force if necessary, but she would need to trust the people here to manage in her absence. It had never been easy for her to trust. Most importantly, she would need to leave Anna here, alone. What would Anna want? What would Anna do?

Anna would trust other people.

Anna would trust _Elsa_.

Elsa followed.

* * *

They came through the front doors.

Anna was sitting in the courtyard with Alek, resting under the shade of the pagoda when it happened. She heard low screams, the explosion of stone as the mastiffs guarding the gates were demolished. An acrid stench filled the air when a black phoenix soared over the walls, screeching its fury and burning the air with its dark wings; and then the doors swung open to admit the Red Tempest. She could see them clearly from where she was. Six people surrounded by a vortex of shadow magic, and behind them a drove of creatures so twisted by serglige they barely resembled humans—storming the Temple of Light.

She looked towards them, and her eyes met with Brennus.

"Burn it down!" Taranis screamed.

Their group spread out in all directions, met by an incoming wave of knights and trainees both. Black fire exploded into existence, dousing the buildings, the paths, the plants, devouring everything in its path. It was the same as any other battle, the screech of metal, the haze of smoke, the smell of blood. Anna remembered this sight from the Southern Isles. Only this time, she was not high above, but down on earth, in the blood and the grime.

Anna could recognize all of them—the members of the Order, the members of the Red Tempest. She had met those of the Order, and she could recognize those of the Red Tempest from Alek and Flynn's descriptions. Gwen had intercepted Eira; Valen had engaged with Morgan; Uriah was cutting his way through to Ayden. Taranis was seemingly looking for a specific someone as he cut down everyone in his path, the glint of his mask a golden flame in the midst of the darkness.

But there _was_ one person that Anna didn't recognize, someone with the Red Tempest that she had heard nothing about. Though he seemed different from the victims of wasting sickness, he looked no more in control of himself than they did. His brown hair was long and matted in dirty thickets, and his posture was very slightly hunched like an animal, so that he always looked down with nervous, twitching eyes. His clothing was torn, just a cloak with shredded edges and ripped sleeves that revealed the horribly pale skin of his forearms, and he wore no shoes. For a while he stood there, watching the battle with wide eyes rimmed by red skin; and then with a shriek he leapt into the fray, seizing a knight and blackened nails sinking into his neck like knives—and he tore the man's head from his shoulders.

His tongue was hanging out to catch the blood. Even his lips were black.

"Aaaaahhhhh…"

It was absolutely disgusting.

"That's Kaleb," Brennus said.

Neither of them had noticed his approach.

"Stay back!" Alek said, but he was too slow; he was only halfway to his sword when Brennus moved his hand, an offhand twitch of his fingers, and Alek was paralyzed. A dark claw burst from the small of Brennus's back and dragged Alek up off the ground, leaving him dangling in midair for half a second before slamming him into a pillar of the pagoda.

"After our last encounter, I thought you were dead," Brennus said. "I assume that Ayden has something to do with you living, but…"

Alek said nothing. He could not, not with the claw smothering his face, and his fingers dug into the leathery limb to no avail.

"Let him go!" Anna said. Brennus tilted his head to look at her and she repeated, quieter, "If you want _anything_ from me, let him go. Let. Him. Go."

Brennus's clawed tail retreated into his body, and Alek crumpled, motionless, to the ground. But he was alive, and, perhaps, safer than he would be if he were conscious and fighting. Anna felt a guilty relief from that, truthfully.

She watched carefully as Brennus claimed a spot next to her, but he made no move to take her as Morgan had, or even to do anything at all. Truthfully, she felt no danger from him. Anna knew that he would act eventually, but not yet. Until then, they would share an uneasy amnesty. Even camaraderie, because they were as close to siblings as anyone could be without the ties of blood. Anna could feel the same magic inside him, inside all of them and inside herself, resonating in recognition of its kin.

Even Kaleb.

"Do you recognize him?" Brennus asked.

"…No, but I've heard of him. Kaleb is…the missing member of the Order, Naomi's apprentice," Anna said. How was it possible? Even if she knew nothing about the rest of the Red Tempest, how did Kaleb, an ordinary member of the Order who never possessed magic, suddenly gain this power as well?

"Yes. Mani tortured him until he…broke."

"Do you think something like that is right?" Anna asked. "Or something like this, coming here and killing people? You have no right to hurt anyone."

"I regret it," Brennus said. "But I feel no guilt. There will always be sacrifices on the path to change."

She wasn't going to get through to him. She could hear the conviction in his voice, and she knew that this was a man who would never let anyone change his mind. It was all he had left.

"May I ask a question?" Brennus met her eyes again, his own reflecting such mad zeal that Anna knew he would never hear her words. "What was it like…? What was it like, to be the vessel of God?"

"There was never a god," Anna said. "And I was never a goddess."

"It's just a term," Brennus said eagerly. "Please, tell me."

"It was…freedom."

Anna remembered the feeling of having no inhibition, no limits. Being so powerful that nothing in the world could shackle her anymore, being so powerful that she was above the laws of men, the rules of nature. She had been a creature of instinct, without the need for rationality and reason. It had been freedom to do what she wanted, freedom to destroy what she hated, freedom to have what she desired.

"Freedom," Brennus repeated. "Exactly. Freedom from constraints, from oppression—"

"But," Anna said, "I was also enslaved by freedom."

"Enslaved by…freedom? I don't understand," Brennus said, and he sounded so confused, so lost, that for a moment Anna felt the deepest pity for him. He yearned for direction, but she had none to give; nor should she have been the one to give it.

"I wish I could explain it to you, but I don't really understand it myself." Anna shook her head. "But I can tell you that giving yourself away to this idea of freedom isn't going to do you any good. If you're looking for happiness…you won't find it by chasing after _Queen Anna_."

"No, I can't believe that." Brennus placed his hand over his heart, wisps of dark flame hovering at his fingertips. "She blessed us. She charged us with the continuation of her legacy."

"I don't remember doing that."

"Perhaps not you, the human, but you, the vessel of God."

"What do you want from me?" Anna asked. "It's like you said, I'm just a vessel. Back then, Edmund had possessed me. That person, that God you want, doesn't exist anymore. _I_ don't have anything to offer you anymore. Stop this, Brennus."

Brennus smiled thinly. "I know all this. But, Anna, are you so sure that person doesn't still exist?"

Anna looked away. She had no answer to that, not one she believed.

"I believe that you are the key to the revival of God. Inside you, Queen Anna slumbers. I only need to wake you, and I know how to do that. For the same reason you are here," Brennus said, gesturing around them. "You are the map to the Golden Flower."

"I won't help you."

"We are bound to this fate. Our magic is proof of our connection, proof of our destiny," Brennus said. "You'll wake to it soon enough. Once you do, you'll see that you _are_ one of us. You have no choice, Anna. You are _meant_ to help me."

Anna looked out to the battle and watched the carnage, unable to help, unable to act. Dark heat built in her chest, the power of her magic straining to be free, so she could help, so she could act. She needed it to do anything. She was bound to it, as she was bound to her past. Maybe she really had no choice. Maybe she could only be one thing.

Was Brennus…right?

* * *

"Fancy seeing you again, Gwen!"

Gwen swung her sword without any care for precision, for form. She only wanted Eira to die, and painfully, but her rage only grew when Eira moved out of the way with a ballerina step and a smile. Gwen leapt towards her again, stabbing for her head, and Eira blocked it with a metal handheld fan.

"My parents died protecting you, you waste of space," Gwen hissed.

"I wish they hadn't been around at all," Eira said. "Maybe I would have been taken to my new family sooner. I might have been _free_ sooner. Instead, I squandered eighteen years chained to my parents."

Eira snapped the fan open, and Gwen leaned back to avoid the serrated edges spinning towards her neck. It was such a _stupid_ weapon. Especially when Eira started fanning herself, like she just didn't care. Eira shouldn't have been a match for her at all, an untrained, pampered girl who had been waited on hand and foot for her entire life. Gwen couldn't understand this sudden ability. Last time she had seen Eira, before her kidnapping by the Red Tempest, she had been a helpless civilian.

"I was a little scared when I was taken away," Eira admitted. "But I was also relieved. Just being away from my family…being away from obligations…I didn't realize I would feel so happy."

"It must have been easy for them to break you," Gwen spat. "How long did it take? A day, maybe two?"

"Oh, no, Taranis kept me blindfolded in a closet, didn't feed me, didn't let me sleep," Eira said, with such a matter-of-fact tone that she could have been talking about someone else. "I was crying for my parents even though I hated them. Isn't that strange? But…they didn't do anything to help me."

"Yes, they did—"

"Someone would come speak to me, sometimes," Eira continued. "She told me such _beautiful_ stories. Her voice was the most soothing thing I'd ever heard, especially after the clocks—tick tock, tick tock, tick tock. But her voice, her voice… Oh, Gwen, I didn't know I could fall in love with a voice. And that was all I heard, for months. Eventually…I wasn't scared anymore because I didn't care what happened!"

"Your parents did everything they could," Gwen said. "But even you should know that it was impossible for them to feed everyone in Corona. Taranis was being—"

"Facetious. Oh, I apologize, facetious means…flippant, joking." Eira smiled, twirling the fan between her fingers. "But I know. Taranis didn't expect anyone to really pay that ransom for me. I really don't care."

Eira threw the fan. Gwen held her sword vertically to block its advance, but the fan spun like a buzzsaw and continued cutting against her blade, spitting orange sparks where the metal grinded. With a grunt, she shoved it away. Eira caught the fan again, her steps so light she practically floated off the ground, and they clashed again, and again, and again.

Gwen refused to lose.

* * *

"Having a hard time killing me?"

Despite the growing ache in his side as his breath ran ragged, Valen kept talking while Morgan tried again and again to decapitate him. She was good, in the way that only talented amateurs could be—instinctive enough to try new things, untrained enough to risk death. She had a dozen openings, but nothing that would kill, only injure her and leave _him_ open; Valen didn't want to test if she might be willing to sacrifice her life in exchange for taking his, because she was _determined_. So far, Morgan had a one-track mind. If he were just a little slower, he was sure that he could be a hydra and still be dead.

"Listen," Valen said, parrying another swing, again for his head, "I think you might need to talk to someone about possible issues."

No response, but he could tell she was annoyed.

"Any hobbies other than blowing things up and trying to kill or kidnap people? Leading a diverse lifestyle is key to emotional and mental health. Knitting, for example, repetitive enough to relax—"

"Shut _up_ , you stupid boy," Morgan hissed.

"From what Flynn told us, I'm four or five years older than you!" Valen retreated so he could catch his breath, and he put on a lopsided grin. "How about some respect for your elders?"

Morgan scoffed. "Doesn't that just make it worse, then? Older than me, and still a naïve boy. You don't know _anything_ about the world, about struggle and having to fight to just survive."

Valen dropped his smile.

"Am I wrong?" Morgan said, and then, enunciating each syllable, "Sir Valen."

"That's _Prince_ Valen."

Valen regretted it the moment the words left his mouth, because the derisive laugh coming from that smug woman told him that she knew very well she had gotten under his skin. Worse. She wasn't even just mocking him to get a reaction. She meant every word she said, that he didn't know about struggle and that, of all people, _he_ didn't know about fighting for a place in the world.

What a joke.

Valen rushed forward, and he swung hard enough to knock Morgan's sword out of her loosened grip. His blade drove into her gauntlets when she hastily brought up her arms to block, and he pushed harder, trying with all his might to amputate her arms altogether, but something on the other side pushed back. Not flesh, though he knew he had cut through her gauntlets. Morgan shoved him away, and he saw the shadow magic swarming inside the grooves of her gauntlet, covering her skin like an angry haze.

"You're a little different from most of the so-called knights with their chivalry," Morgan said slowly. "I wasn't expecting you to attack me out of the blue. You play the fool well."

"Well." Valen breathed deeply and smiled. "Thanks, I wasn't expecting you to be so nice."

"En guarde."

* * *

Uriah felt his pulse quicken at the sight of him, the one who had managed to match him—Ayden. It was an odd realization, that he could feel such excitement. Even his hands were trembling, not with fear as another might think, but with anticipation.

"You switched up your weapon," Ayden said.

His lance, unwieldy and simplistic, was a self-imposed handicap. Uriah had substituted it for a silver spear. It was almost crystalline in appearance, so silver it gleamed white, a blue horsehair tassel close to the blade and a corkscrew drill at the base. Either end was dangerous. Ayden deserved nothing but his best, so this time, he would fight with his chosen weapon. Just like Ayden, he would use the spear—the noblest of weapons.

"Now we match," Uriah said.

"…Yeah, we do." Ayden's face was hidden beneath his mask, and this time, even his eyes were hidden away; but Uriah thought he heard a hint of a smile in his voice, a hint of wonder. "Do we have to fight?"

"Of course." Uriah surprised himself with the fervor in his voice. It was very unlike him. "We must do battle. I am your Reaper, Ayden of the Red Tempest. No matter where you go, I will be there too."

"Why?"

"Because those are my orders."

"Is that…the only reason?"

"It's the only reason I need," Uriah said.

Their stances mirrored one another perfectly, and in unison, they leapt into battle. Uriah had the advantage of height, and he felt no compunction in keeping his distance, attacking with the outermost tip of his range. Ayden was slightly faster and slightly more agile, just enough to mitigate his advantage by staying one step ahead of Uriah. Once again, Uriah found himself impressed. More than impressed; captivated. How graceful, he thought, watching the beautiful, fluid movements of his would-be enemy. Like water, but also like steel; like wind, but also like stone; fast and strong, elegant but deadly. It was mesmerizing. Very suddenly he realized, he did _not_ think of Ayden as an enemy, or even a target.

Ayden swept for his legs with a flurry of ground strikes, and when Uriah leapt back, Ayden instantly adjusted into an upwards arc, coming dangerously close to his glasses; Uriah felt a gust of air fan over his face. He'd landed on his feet for no more than a second before Ayden was pressing him again. Too direct, Uriah thought. It was unlike Ayden to attack so furiously. Though his movements had the lethality of an expert, his temperament was that of a novice trying to prove himself. Another slash, too close to his face. Uriah steeled himself and allowed himself to react, fully and viscerally as he never did.

Danger provoked instinct.

When was the last time he let himself fight so instinctually?

Uriah blocked the next strike and shifted, moving both blades to the side, angling the base of his own spear to point directly at Ayden's mask; and he thrust the corkscrew end forward. Forced to stumble backward, Ayden was already off balance; Uriah pivoted on his heel, swinging his spear up and around and powering down on Ayden again, spear blade-first. Ayden blocked with his spear held horizontally, overhead. A mistake, Uriah thought. All he had to do was reverse his grip, strike under his guard with the spear butt, and he would knock the spear from Ayden's hands. _That_ would be a disappointing end.

Ayden shunted him back, breathing harshly, and Uriah did nothing.

Next thing he knew, there was a blade pointed at his eye.

"What was that?" Ayden asked. "Are you mocking me?"

"You spared me once, too." Uriah gestured to his shoulder, the torn epaulette on his coat from their last encounter. He had yet to mend it. He rather liked the flaw. "Don't mistake me. I was returning a favor."

Slowly, Ayden moved out of his readied stance.

"Are we going to keep fighting, or are you going to let me pass?"

"You're here to avenge your family," Uriah said. "Last time, I recognized your spear stance—General Culann's distinctive form, I believe. You are his son, then."

Ayden nodded. "Will you let me pass?"

"No." Uriah raised his spear once again. "We'll continue. You can walk over my corpse, if you think yourself capable. I have never underestimated you, and I will never make an allowance for you."

"…I see." Ayden readied himself, but there was, perhaps, less tension in his body, less of the desperate need in his movements. "Thank you. I'll remember what you said, no matter what happens."

Uriah didn't reply, but, he knew, he would remember this too.

 _I will remember you_ , _Ayden of the Red Tempest._

* * *

It wasn't hard to find Mani.

Elsa walked slowly towards the frenzied crowd growing at the base of the clock tower, and one glance upward revealed the cause for the commotion.

"Please! Please come down, come down—"

At the very top of the clock tower, nearly eighty feet above the ground, was a ring of more than a dozen people. There was a little boy, no older than nine or ten. There was a middle-aged woman, gap-toothed and wide-eyed. There was a young man, scarred on the chin. And many, many more, standing there unresponsive to the world. Together they shambled over the railings of the observation deck, their motions horribly spastic, their faces terribly blank; and they ignored the screams of their loved ones watching below until there they were at the rooftop, their bodies swaying in the wind, the tips of their feet hovering over open air as they stood hand-in-hand at the very edge.

Elsa could see it in their faces. Without hesitation, they would leap to their deaths. At any moment, their bodies would fall to the earth, and their fragile, human lives would be extinguished in an instant.

 ** _How's this for a show, Elsaaaaa?_**

Mani was sitting at the center of them, her legs kicking at the stopped clock. Up above, she wouldn't have been heard if she spoke; Elsa heard her voice in her head. If it were possible, Elsa would have willingly dug through her skull to get Mani out, but what worried her was that Mani could get in at all. Not even Edmund had been able to get in her head like this. Somehow, Mani had completely bypassed the defenses of her magic, without Elsa even noticing.

"What are you planning?" Elsa asked.

 ** _Nothing! It's Anna messing with their heads, so you can't blame me. They wanted to die, so here they are, ready to take that final leap…_**

"What kind of sick—"

 ** _I'm giving you a chance to redeem yourself! Save them. Save them from themselves!_**

Elsa clenched her jaw. She could save them. She could save them with magic, but then everyone would know who she was. If this were before, when she hated the world, she really would have left them to their deaths. But now…now was different. Each of them was a person. Each of them had full lives with their own dreams and hopes and fears. She wasn't the only person in the world. Each of them up there was a real person, just like Alek or Hans or Rapunzel or _Anna_ , and they had their own quirks, their own friends, their own families, their own lives as vivid as her own. No. She couldn't just leave them.

Especially not when she, too, had killed herself once.

She knew what it was like to be desperate, as though the soul, flayed of its old hide of hopes and pretensions, recorded every touch and thought as pain.

 ** _You're pretty worthless, aren't you? You're just a side character now. Everything that made you special, you threw away for this weird sentimentality. You don't matter anymore._**

 ** _Just like these people._**

They jumped.

They were free-falling through the air without so much as a sound, but—Elsa would save them. She needed to save them. She outstretched her arms, pushing with all the might of her magic until even her lips parted in a throaty yell. An avalanche of snow rose from nothing and surged upwards, and then—

Mani outstretched her hand.

Immediately, Elsa felt a hammering pressure in her head, and her concentration broke, the snow fell to the ground. She didn't even notice as the crowd scattered in a panic. If there were mental walls in her head to keep other people out, the feeling just now had been like they were being _shredded._ She could still hear the echo of a thin screech in her ears—the echo of foreign magic consuming hers, pushing hers back into her body.

It was all happening in an instant. Elsa looked up, saw that the people were still falling, sixty feet, fifty feet, closer and closer to the ground and to death, and she tried again to summon up the wealth of her magic.

 ** _Let's play, Queen Elsa._**

Up above, the Golden Flower glowed with light.

Elsa was magically more powerful. Despite the odd sensation of her magic being swallowed, being _eaten_ , she knew she could push Mani back if she concentrated—but as the people fell, forty feet, thirty feet, she only felt terror. Her heart leapt in her throat and choked her breath, and she vaguely wished that for this one moment it wasn't still in her body, just so she could do this without interference.

With one last push, Elsa freed herself of Mani.

She redirected her efforts to the snow, moving it to catch the falling people—

 ** _This is so fun!_**

Mani leapt off the tower, kicking off the clock and cracking the glass surface as invisible magic whipped her forward. She reached Elsa in an instant, her hand curled into a claw as she reached for her face.

On instinct, Elsa dodged under her grip, seized her by the throat – _her neck should have snapped_ , _how is this girl, this thing, even still alive_ – and flung her down.

 ** _I win!_**

 _No._

 _No, no, no, no, no._

It was too late.

Elsa heard the dull crunch of bones, the wet squelch of flesh, long before she actually saw the bodies. Slowly, she looked around. There were screams all around her from the crowd, but she barely heard them. She only saw mangled bodies lying prostrate at the base of the tower, utterly ruined, cracked skulls and strewn organs. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking. She clenched them tightly, one of them squeezing Mani's windpipe even as she exhaled whooping laughs.

"I really haven't learned my lesson!" Mani said. "But maybe next time."

"There won't _be_ a next time," Elsa said.

"Ohhhhhhh?"

Another flash of light; Elsa squinted her eyes, cursing with cheated rage as she felt herself pushed back. By the time she could open her eyes without pain, Mani was on her feet, twirling the Flower between her fingers and making a play at smelling it; and then she threw it. Without ceremony, as though it were nothing but garbage, she tossed it towards Elsa. Elsa barely reacted in time to catch it, and the _feel_ of it was—not unpleasant, but strange. Uncomfortably warm, like she was holding the sun in her hands.

"Maybe next time? But I'll admit that this was your win." Mani dipped into a bow. "You should probably be heading back to the Temple. Killing me might take a little too long! I'm very persistent. Like a cockroach? _Ungeheures Ungeziefer._ So I mean, you can step on me, and, umm…sticks and stones may break my bones? Huh. What's the second part again…?"

At her words, a loud screech sounded over the tumult. Elsa looked in its direction, in the direction of the Temple, and even from a distance she could see the firebird circling its walls. Mani was gone by the time Elsa looked back, and angry as she was, there was nothing she could do. She needed to go back.

Elsa took one last look at the carnage, at the people she had failed to save.

She pushed her way out of the crowd, feeling the weight of failure and, for the first time, the bitter taste of defeat.

* * *

Anna clenched her hands as she continued to watch the battle, hostage under Brennus.

"Did you know that Lazarus was part of the firing squad meant to execute Taranis?" Brennus asked. "By now, I suspect Taranis will have found him. Ahh, and look, another reunion."

Naomi had reached Kaleb, and despite her pleas for him to stop, the boy didn't seem to recognize his once-mentor; or perhaps he did and it exacerbated his madness, because his shrill screams only grew louder as he lunged for her with bloodied hands. Barrages of arrows from the soldiers on the walls tore at his skin as he advanced, but he paid them no heed, only healing through his injuries with astonishing speed. Up above, the phoenix charged down the archers and flung them down the balustrades.

"What do you _want_ from me?" Anna asked again.

"Your cooperation."

"Then stop this, please, what good does this do?"

"Like I said," Brennus murmured, drumming his fingers on the railing of the pagoda, "I need to awaken the goddess slumbering inside you, and this, I think, is the quickest way. It's for the best. You'll see."

Anna watched as Naomi continued to dodge Kaleb. Every motion of his clawed hands sent a blade of fire tearing through the ground, until everything around them was burned—even his own flesh. Skin peeled from his exposed feet and regenerated again, the flesh burned until even blood ran dry, and then healed without scars. When one unfortunate knight blocked his path, Kaleb punched through his armor, renting the metal and tearing through flesh and bone until his arm reemerged out the knight's back.

"Kaleb!" Naomi yelled, as Kaleb shoved the corpse off his arm. "Look at me, I'm Naomi—"

"Tick tock tick tock tick," Kaleb muttered under his breath, again and again. "Scritch scratch scritch scratch scritch… Close my eyes and shut my mouth, sew them shut and they won't crawl out…"

That explained the skin scratched red and raw under his eyes, and his torn lips.

"She's never going to reach him," Brennus said.

"What did you people _do_ to him?" Anna said. "How does he have magic? How is any of this happening? Just—give me an answer. If you want me to do anything for you, then tell me—"

"I don't know. I only follow; God is not meant to be questioned."

Anna remembered too late that this man could provide her with no answers, ensnared so deeply in his own conviction that he saw nothing but a farfetched dream. This was the type of man who was most dangerous, she realized. Not someone who schemed and plotted, but _this_ , the man who had no path but a destination. They would destroy everything to get to it.

There was an unbearable heat in her chest, something monstrous; something crawling on a tangled web wound around her heart and lungs, looking out with a thousand ink-black eyes.

Gwen was being pushed back. She had yet to recover from her injuries, and Eira was pressing her advantage by aiming for her wounds. In the distance, Uriah and Ayden at a standstill; Valen lying defenseless on the ground with Morgan poised to strike; and then from the chapel came the loudest explosion that Anna had ever heard, as the windows shattered, as the towers groaned with arthritic strain until they finally collapsed, and the doors blew away, and Lazarus was flung out of the collapsing ruin as Taranis stalked towards him.

Everything was going to hell.

 _They're going to…_

"For the wages of sin is death," Brennus murmured.

 _…die._

Anna tore from her seat.

She had never felt more powerful. She was moving so fast it felt like her skin might tear from her body, like her soul might altogether abandon her weak, mortal body. Her legs no longer hindered her movement; she had no need for them; she was weightless shadow, flying across the courtyard as rings of flame and shadow spiraled all around her in a nebulous haze.

At once, drawn to her magic, every member of the Red Tempest looked to Anna.

Anna reached Kaleb before he could react, passed him by before he could ever register her appearance—and he was mewling on the ground, missing half his torso when she left, vaporized by the magic she exuded. Now that magic was reshaping into tendrils, red-black spider legs outstretched in all directions; Morgan, at least, tried to move, to do anything—too slow, too weak. Her magic was a pittance compared to Anna. Morgan opened her mouth in a scream as her magic was swatted aside and Anna's snapped forward, impaled her through the chest and stomach again and again like a piston tearing through paper flesh, lifting her off the ground entirely and flinging her limp body away.

Whoever was left was coming at her now. On its own accord her magic surged from her body, catching Eira full in the face, wrapping around Taranis and crushing his arms and legs, reaching up and then stabbing Ayden through the shoulders. She was at once still and scattered, the person crouched and also the shadow and the fire washing over the entirety of the Temple.

It was power distilled to absolute perfection.

But it was intolerable.

No matter what she did, her magic never calmed, only seethed and churned and frothed. It was a cesspool of burning, living water. It was fire that might boil her insides, venom that might melt her eyes and bleed from her pores. Her chest was tight with heat and terror and so she lashed out, curling into herself and screaming as she blasted the flames outward at everything and everyone, again and again.

After hours or days or seconds, Anna felt herself burn out.

She was crouched in a crater gouged out by flame, all the green replaced by ash and soot and blackened dirt. There were schisms wherever her magic had torn through the ground, bottomless trenches that formed a pattern-less web. Everyone was downed. Dead. Dying. She couldn't tell. Almost everyone.

"Now we see the extent of your powers," Brennus said. Anna hardly had the strength to turn her head to look at him. "Greater than all of us. You _are_ our prophet, Anna."

"N-No. Y…You're wrong."

"…But the gift of God is eternal life."

Brennus reached out.

Rapunzel swung for his head.

It was an attack from behind, but Brennus moved out of the way without ever looking back; though there was distance, now, between him and Anna. Rapunzel kept up her mad barrage with a ruined sword that looked just as deadly to its owner as its enemies, and Brennus moved away, one step at a time, circling her as she continued her fruitless efforts.

"Run, Anna!"

"Princess Rapunzel," Brennus said calmly. Not even his breathing seemed to quicken. "It would be an honor if you might come with us, too."

"Go — to — hell!"

Brennus caught the sword in his hand and snapped it; but before he could seize Rapunzel, an arrow pierced the ground between them.

"Hello again, Bren."

Sol was perched on a nearby rooftop, crouched and at the ready with bow and arrow. Brennus looked first to the arrow at his feet, then to Sol, and for a long while he did not speak. Anna felt Rapunzel move her away, but she barely even registered her touch. She was so tired. She wanted nothing more than to sink into the earth and fall into a deep sleep.

"Sol," Brennus said simply. "Where's Eugene?"

"With Judus," Sol said. "I suggest you take everybody and leave before I keep you any longer. Cut your losses before Elsa arrives?"

"You think I won't hurt you."

"Tell everyone I hope they're doing well!"

Slowly, Brennus nodded. "One day, you'll understand."

Sol smiled.

Brennus departed, the black phoenix collecting his fallen comrades and bearing them all into the sky.

Anna was left lying on the ground, smothered by an invisible carapace—exhaustion, confusion, despair. She took one last fleeting look at the scene around her, the fallen bodies and the flames; and then, with great relief, she let her vision fade to black.


	12. Festival Dirge

**Chapter 12: Festival Dirge**

They were victorious.

They were in mourning.

Bodies had been moved and buried with hasty funeral rites held in mass, but other than muttered prayers, the Temple was silent. It had been proposed that the bodies be burned, in case there was any chance of contagion from shadow magic, but Elsa had insisted that the dead be paid proper respect. Some were burned regardless. Too mangled to identify who they had been in life, cremation seemed the only proper thing to do. A memorial would be made for them, Lazarus had said.

Anna wondered about the use of a memorial. Maybe it would make the living feel better to give some recognition to the fallen, but for those who had died: Was a memorial any consolation? She couldn't imagine there being life after death. Or maybe the thought that they would be recognized had been a comfort during life. Anna thought it was a good gesture, regardless. Best not to overthink some things.

Slowly, Anna walked from her bed to the window. She took steps gingerly, not out of necessity but habit. Since her episode of shadow magic, her body had felt stronger than she ever remembered it; both her wheelchair and crutches had been left in disuse for days.

Anna barely remembered it, but Elsa had returned to find her crouched and doubled over in a deep pit. Even after danger passed, her magic had seethed—like her body was trying to boil it out, trying to burn the contagion out of itself. Her hideous limbs had returned, sprouting from her back like mangled flesh before forcibly refolding into her body. Only Elsa's intervention had saved her from further pain. Anna had been held in ice for hours until her magic calmed, and now…

When the magic first awakened, Anna had felt it like a separate being lurking in dark depths. She was Anna, and the magic was…not. Now, that magic had bled throughout her body. There was nothing separate about it. She felt it warming her stomach, burning at her fingertips, but to her great surprise, the magic was...tame. Not the violent creature that it been while fighting the Red Tempest. Just…there. Anna curled a finger and a small spark grew until she shook it away.

Elsa cleared her throat.

"It seems like you have a handle on it," Elsa said.

"No. Maybe, I don't know." Anna glanced down to her hands, though that was only a reflex. Both of them knew that magic didn't come exclusively from their hands, and Anna especially. She still remembered what it felt like to have claws and tails and wings, like a demon from hell. "I'd rather not."

"You saved everyone," Elsa said. "No one can deny that."

It was a conversation they'd had already, and not one that Anna was willing to have again.

"What's going to happen now?" Anna asked.

"Damage control." Elsa looked away, down to the floor. When she clenched her fist, Anna could hear the crackle of ice, maybe even electricity. "It was…a spectacle. We lost."

Anna had heard about it, the mass suicide, though not from Elsa but from Sol. Elsa knew that she knew, anyhow, despite Anna never mentioning it. Elsa didn't want to hear that she wasn't to blame, so Anna didn't say it. She felt like she should, but she was worn too thin, too tired, to comfort anyone. It wouldn't do either of them any good. She wished that Elsa understood this, too. Elsa didn't need to comfort her when she herself was…

"Helloooooo," Sol said, poking her head through the open door. "Master Judus wants to see you. And before Elsa says anything, he wants to see _both_ of you, please."

Elsa looked towards Anna.

"All right," Anna said.

Walking through the Temple to the chapter hall, Anna could truly comprehend the destruction that had occurred. Much of it was at her hands. Brennus had summoned the firebird that destroyed so much of the stone walls and towers, but the ravaged courtyards, the burned trees and ruined earth, that was her work. Entire buildings had been burned black. Even one of the artificial ponds had burned, until the water ran dry and the fish rotted under the sun.

It was a miracle that the chapter hall had survived relatively intact. When they entered, Judus was awaiting them, Uriah and Flynn at his side. Rapunzel, too. Anna had barely realized she was there before Rapunzel pounced on her and hugged her tightly.

"I'm so glad to see you!" Rapunzel pulled away, but she kept a tight grip on Anna's arms. "You…umm…I don't know what I was trying to say."

"Thanks for helping me," Anna said.

"What?"

"When Brennus was after me, you stepped in."

Rapunzel flushed. "I didn't manage to do anything. But, I…I'm sorry about avoiding you lately. I mean, I know that was unfair. You're a great person."

Judus stepped forward. "Rapunzel is right, Anna. I would like to extend to you my thanks as well for your part in defending the Temple. And Elsa, too, although…"

"Although I failed," Elsa finished.

"Well, some sacrifices aren't necessarily bad," Sol chirped. "People are furious about the Red Tempest, so we'll be able to do more against them. I guess you could say those people died well."

Flynn frowned. "That's a really roundabout way of looking at it."

"Really? Would it be better to think they died a worthless death?"

"Regardless," Judus said, cutting off Flynn's reply, "Elsa, people saw your face. You'll have to leave, and soon, though I expect that given recent developments, that was part of your plan."

Elsa nodded.

"Recent…developments?" Anna asked.

"I didn't want to trouble you with it while you were recovering, but that girl, Mani…"

Elsa held out her hand. In the middle of her palm bloomed first one petal, then another, and another, until the unmistakable form of a flower arose. It hovered over her hand, glowing with pale light for one brief moment until it dimmed and the petals regained their inky, faded appearance. But even then it was beautiful. Anna could recognize it immediately, though this was her first time seeing it outside of her murky, half-lit dreams—the Golden Flower.

"She just handed it to me." Elsa cocked her head as she looked at the Flower spinning lazily over her hand. "I don't know where or how she obtained it in the first place."

Nearly everyone was in awe over the Golden Flower, and that was to be expected. Even Anna was enthralled, drawn to the thrumming power she felt emanating from even this husk. For Corona, the legend was ubiquitous. Everyone in the room had grown up listening to tales of it, and to see it, to have it so near, must have been mind-boggling. But, Anna noticed, Sol alone was apathetic.

"You must have some idea," Sol said. "Considering your own...situation."

Elsa frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh! Nothing." Sol smiled, hands clasped behind her back. "Just thinking aloud. What are you planning on doing with that? By the way, I'm asking Anna."

"…Why me?" Anna asked.

"You're the only one who can actually do anything with it," Sol said. "You could throw it away, or you could find the other petals and restore its light."

Anna looked towards Elsa, but despite her dislike for Sol, Elsa offered no disagreement. Anna had known, of course, that the decision was hers. It was the plan all along, for her to find and reunite the scattered remnants of the Golden Flower, use it to heal those afflicted with sickness and to heal herself. And she had all the more reason to do it now. Her magic had only grown stronger with time.

Was there really any other choice?

Anna took the Golden Flower within her own hand, feeling its golden warmth overtake her senses immediately. It was intoxicating. There was already a growing haze over her thoughts, like she was drunk and sated, and the conscious part of her mind that recognized it was content and alarmed both.

"We'll set out as soon as possible," Anna said.

"Excellent," Judus said. "I have already informed King Friderich of your possible departure, and he requested that, should you agree, you be accompanied by Princess Rapunzel."

Rapunzel jumped. "Wait, what?"

"I would have wanted to bring her too, so that's fine," Elsa said, and Rapunzel's protests fell on deaf ears. "Anything or anyone else you'd like to saddle us with while you can?"

Judus smiled. "Perhaps someone from the Order could also join your expedition. I'm sure someone with proper training would be helpful."

"Not Sol," Elsa said.

"Oh no, I wouldn't have the time," Sol said. "And besides, you might be going off to tend to your special Golden Flower, but my regular flowers need me. If I don't water them, who will?"

"Would Uriah be agreeable?" Judus asked.

"Hey!" Rapunzel yelled, stamping her feet loudly enough to cut through the tumult, and finally she had everyone's attention. "Don't you think you all could ask for _my_ opinion? When did I say I wanted to go?"

"If you don't want to, then maybe—" Anna began.

"No, I'm going! I _want_ to go, but please, next time, tell Papa to ask me before making these decisions!" Rapunzel huffed. "And I'll be choosing who goes with us. If Anna doesn't mind."

"That's…fine," Anna said, smiling weakly. "I didn't have anyone in mind."

Rapunzel turned to Flynn. "Would you be willing to come with us?"

Flynn blinked owlishly, looking over the room before pointing his finger to himself with raised eyebrows. "Wait, seriously, you're asking me. I knew I was charming, but wow, not _that_ charming."

"No! I would have asked Gwen, but she's hurt," Rapunzel said. "And…you saved me that time."

Out of the corner of her eye, Anna saw Elsa very discretely smiling. She was pleased with Rapunzel's choice, then. Anna wondered why, and she made a mental note to ask when they were alone.

"Princess," Judus said sharply. "Someone else would be more fitting, I think. Lazarus, or Naomi—"

"They're both hurt," Flynn said. "With all due respect, I think Princess Rapunzel can make her own choices…and I'm perfectly willing. Sounds way more fun than being stuck around here."

"Perfect," Elsa said, smiling openly now at the stone-faced Judus. "It's decided, then. Rapunzel and Flynn will be coming with us. I'd like to head out as soon as possible, but…"

"Yeah, tomorrow night is the Lantern Festival," Rapunzel said. "We wouldn't be able to leave even if we wanted to, with all the preparations underway."

"Afterwards, then. We can take the time to prepare."

With that, they dispersed.

Anna felt the Golden Flower vanish into her palm, and she bore it away, wondering if it, too, anticipated the day of its reunification.

* * *

The Lantern Festival was a cause for celebration. Every year there would be new merriments for both the young and old, parades in the streets and fireworks in the skies; wishes were written on paper lanterns and set afloat in the sea, families praying for health and happiness and lovers hoping for longevity. Only in the last few moments was there any trace of solemnity, and the Lantern Festival was remembered for what it truly was—a remembrance of a lost princess.

Rapunzel bore that thought with her always. She never enjoyed the Lantern Festival. There was nothing to be gained from paper wishes. Lanterns floating away into the sea, swept into the buoy of water, was just a reminder of how useless she was, how ignorant she was.

Chryssa could be dead, and she would never know.

But this year, the celebrations were dampened. Such little time had passed since the Red Tempest's attack that, for once, the gaiety was muted. Around the clock tower where the mass suicide had occurred, there was a second memorial for the dead. Rapunzel couldn't say she was glad for this atmosphere. Even if she never enjoyed the festival, there was some comfort in the thought that Chryssa, even while missing, was still bringing people happiness.

"Can't I just walk around on my own?" Rapunzel asked.

"No can do, I'm on orders," Flynn said, shrugging.

Rapunzel acquiesced. Even if being trailed was piling onto the depression of the occasion, Flynn was only following orders. Besides, Flynn was about as entertaining as shadows could come.

"So, umm…" Rapunzel stopped at a stall and thumbed through the variety of lanterns—patterned with different variations of pink blossoms, blue flowers, songbirds, colorful fish. "What do you think?"

"That is an _ugly_ fish," Flynn said, and as the stall-owner shot him a wicked glare, he stuck out his tongue.

Rapunzel snorted.

She bought the lantern with the bloated fish.

"Can I ask you something?" Rapunzel asked. They were seated for a break, though largely for Rapunzel's benefit. She had already seen Flynn's ridiculous adroitness firsthand.

"Sure, questions are free, although _answers_ …"

"How did you end up with the Order?"

"Oh." Flynn blinked. "I thought it'd be way more serious than that."

"It is serious! I mean, people's pasts are important."

"O…kay, but before I answer that," Flynn said, stretching out his legs. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, we're going on that big quest together." Rapunzel held in a groan. She did have some idea about why her father wanted her to go – Sol's warning about Judus still rang clear in her mind – but the principle of it was annoying. She didn't want to be forced into going.

"You don't need to know about people to work with them."

"Fine, I'm just curious. How's that?"

Flynn grinned. "Hey, you catch on pretty quick. Don't bother with huge, rational explanations. If you want to do something, then just do it."

"Can you just tell me already?" Rapunzel grinned back with a predatory smile, and Flynn edged back. "Or are you trying to avoid the topic? Something sensitive? Hmmmmmm?"

"All right! Just stop that." Flynn pretended to shudder like a wet dog shaking out its pelt, and then he cleared his throat. "Due to unfortunate circumstances in my youth, I was brought into a hosting home, where I met some people, made some friends, but I eventually decided to forge my own road, made some poor decisions and caught some unwanted attention, and then I stumbled onto Judus."

As Flynn took a deep breath, Rapunzel only stared, waiting for the rest of the story, before she realized he had finished. "Wait, seriously, that's it?"

"It was an abridged version!"

"You told me nothing about yourself!" Rapunzel frowned. "If you didn't want to tell me, then you could have just said so—"

"I was an orphan."

Rapunzel clamped her mouth shut.

"I mean, I guess I _am_ an orphan, since people don't often _stop_ being orphans," Flynn said. "That orphanage was…terrible. It was bearable because of the friends I had there, but I…I left them. I'd read some book about Flynnigan Ryder and I thought to myself, I could be like that too. I could steal from the rich and give to the poor, yadda yadda yadda. I told myself that I was going to come back and help my friends, but I really just wanted to leave. It was selfish. After that, well, I became a thief, met some bad people, and…became something worse. Didn't have much of a choice. You've seen me run, but you haven't forgotten what I did to those people who attacked you, right?"

It would be hard to forget Flynn effortlessly killing two members of the Red Tempest.

It wasn't just the fact that he killed, but the _way_ he did it, using their own weapons against them, skillfully, brutally, without hesitation.

"I was an assassin," Flynn said. "Pretty good one too, until I was contracted to kill this one person, and I just…couldn't." He gave her a piercing stare, scrutinizing. Rapunzel stared back, wondering about his oddly pointed gaze until, finally, he smiled gently and looked away. "Long story short, Lazarus eventually nabbed me, but he took me in instead of handing me over to the authorities. One thing led to another, and…here I am. There you go, that's my tragic backstory. Not too special, everyone's got one."

"I...I'm really sorry for prying, I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine," Flynn said. Rapunzel only felt guiltier when he gave her the most genuine smile he had ever worn. "I wouldn't have told you if you didn't ask, true, but I wouldn't have told you if I didn't want to. I hope you're not scared of me now."

Rapunzel shook her head.

"Why?" Flynn asked.

"Well, you saved me."

"That's not a good reason," Flynn pointed out.

"Intuition, then. I don't need a reason."

Flynn hummed. Rapunzel played with the paper lantern in her lap, pulling at the edges as more questions rose to the tip of her tongue. She wondered if she should ask. She certainly wanted to. And Flynn _had_ said that he wouldn't feel compelled to answer if he didn't want to.

"Your friends…" Rapunzel bit her lip. "Have you seen them since?"

"Yeah. In fact, just a few days ago."

"Just a few…"

She would never have made the connection, would never have even dreamed of it as a possibility, if Flynn hadn't given her a knowing smile. Even as the answer came to her, even as her eyes widened and he nodded as if telling her, yes, she could make this outlandish guess, she could hardly believe—

"Red Tempest?" Rapunzel whispered.

Flynn laughed. It wasn't a _real_ laugh, but one muttered under his breath like an oath. It was a sound so mirthlessly dry that it must have hurt to produce at all. Eventually, Flynn hid his face in his hands.

"God, I never should have left. What the hell happened to them…?"

Rapunzel set the lantern aside and wrapped her arm around Flynn's shoulders.

* * *

"Come in!"

Judging by the infuriating cheer in his voice, Gwen thought, Valen seemed well enough. She wondered if she ought to just leave, now that she was sure the stupid crybaby wasn't dead or dying; but even as she considered saving face by turning around, her hand went to turn the doorknob. She saw Valen immediately, lounging in bed with most of his upper body wrapped in bandages—but they were still seeping red, and her breath hitched as painfully as if the wounds were her own.

"Good to see you," Valen said, with an awkward nudge of his left arm. "I'd wave properly, but I'm having some trouble moving."

"Stay put." Gwen snatched a roll of fresh bandages lying unused on his desk, and she seated herself at the edge of his bed. Slowly, she unwrapped the soiled wrappings covering his wounds.

There was a long, jagged gash against the side of his ribs and the flesh of his back—not deep, but undoubtedly painful. Slowly, Gwen let her fingers map the grain of his skin. Valen looked away, hissing a thin breath, tensing his jaw and his entire body; the strap muscles of his neck tightened at the contact.

"What happened?" Gwen asked as she worked to clean the wound and re-bandage it. "It's not like you to get so hurt. Don't tell me you lost."

"Apparently _you_ were getting manhandled by Eira." Valen laughed when Gwen shot him a scandalized look. "I was careless. I didn't realize they could heal themselves."

"Next time," Gwen said, "I'll test just how much."

"Scary."

"Really?"

"No." Bandages reapplied, Valen sat back and gave her a lazy smile. "You were scarier when we were kids. Nowadays…too pretty. I'm surprised there aren't lines of boys trying to get you to go to the Lantern Festival. Just so you know, I'm at the head of that metaphorical line."

"Please."

"I'm serious."

Valen wasn't smiling anymore. If Gwen didn't know better, she might think he really was serious, just like every other time he made these comments.

"Whatever," Gwen said, and she snorted when Valen put on an expression of deep malady.

Valen was very different now from when they met. Gwen remembered seeing him dropped off at the Temple like refuse, not quite seven years old and abandoned by his aunt, the new Queen of Corona, while he was…not a prince anymore. No matter how anyone consoled him, he continued to cry. Of course he did. He missed his parents, but they weren't separated by physical space—his father was dead, his mother was exiled, and he, powerless, had been sent away with his title stripped from him.

She had called him a crybaby, punched him in the face, and he had broken out of it.

Gwen hadn't cried half as much when _her_ parents were killed, but maybe that was because he had been there.

"You need to be careful," Gwen said, but she wasn't thinking about the Red Tempest. It was Judus, and Sol, and everyone else who had never really cared about Valen. Judus had taken him under his wing, but Gwen knew, now, that he could not have good intentions.

"…Gwen?"

But as soon as she tried to tell him about what had happened with Sol, her throat constricted. She couldn't even scream her frustration anywhere but in her mind.

"J-Just…don't get hurt, I meant."

Valen smiled.

"I'll be careful, I promise."

* * *

Elsa had never been one to mince words.

There was no point to it. Why say in a hundred words what could be accomplished with ten? It was clearer to just say what needed to be said, and if not for clarity's sake, then for urgency. And yet, now, she hesitated. She already knew how Anna would answer, but she could not understand it.

Anna needed to learn how to control her magic.

"Why do you hate it so much?" Elsa asked. "Look what you accomplished here. You pushed back the Red Tempest. You saved everyone. It wouldn't have been possible without—"

"They couldn't have attacked without magic," Anna said. She paced the other end of their room, and Elsa doubted she even realized she was pulling at the ends of her hair. "I don't want it. It's _evil_."

"Am I?"

Anna paused. "No, not…not magic in general. Not you, not your magic. Elsa, you know that's not what I meant. I was only talking about _this_ , whatever they have, whatever I have. Shadow magic. Edmund."

"You know that I can sense magic," Elsa said. "So please, just believe me. What you have is different. It _feels_ different."

"I don't see any difference, and no one else will! It'll always just be shadow magic—"

Elsa curled her hand, and shadows bled around her fingers.

Anna stared.

"It's from the Mirror, not from anything or anyone else, and not from Edmund. If you must, you could say that it comes from _me._ It's not inherently evil, Anna."

Elsa extinguished the flames, repressing a shudder at the sensation of heat so close to her skin. If Anna saw her shudder, she might think it was because of some _taint_ , but Elsa was only afraid of the heat—the memory of her hands in a furnace would never let her use shadow magic, but there was no need, anyhow, what with her affinity for ice. But that didn't mean she wasn't capable of it.

"Just let go of your hesitation," Elsa urged. "I _know_ you can control it. It's safer than trying to repress it. Let the magic flow through you naturally—"

"It's _not_ natural!"

Elsa stood silently as Anna braced herself against the wall, until, eventually, she let her limbs slacken and she slid down. Her head lolled back. She stared up at the ceiling, blinking softly.

"It's not mine," Anna said. "None of this magic belongs to me. I know you might…you might _want_ me to have magic, so I can understand you, but…I'm not like you. I'm just ordinary."

"…You _already_ understand me," Elsa said quietly. "But I'm not sure you understand yourself. I've been where you are now, and I know that fear isn't going to help you. This…isn't you. Think it over. I'll be waiting for you at the Lantern Festival."

Elsa left.

She had never seen so much of herself in Anna, and that, more than anything, was terrifying.

* * *

Rapunzel had agreed to keep Flynn's connection with Red Tempest to herself. As Flynn had joked, Elsa might try to kill him on the spot if she knew about it—Rapunzel wasn't so sure that Flynn was joking. It was amazing how, after that conversation, Flynn had just carried on like nothing was wrong. Rapunzel hadn't said anything more about it, and Flynn seemed no different from before, still smiling and laughing and cracking jokes. At her insistence, he had even participated in a street dance, one that she was somehow swept into as well, and as she was moved this way and that in the chaotic beat, she had ended up face to face, hand in hand, with Flynn.

She had broken away, red-faced, but the thought of how close they had been didn't leave her mind for hours. She'd felt his breath in her lungs, could have counted his eyelashes as they stared at each other.

"It's going to get dark soon," Flynn said. "If you want, we should head to the beaches, save a nice spot for the lantern…sending…releasing…thing. Is there a word for that?"

As they made their way to the beach, Rapunzel caught sight of a memorial to Chryssa.

It was odd how, in the mural, Chryssa was still a child. She had been frozen in time, while Rapunzel grew older than she had ever been. Of course, somewhere out there, Chryssa was an adult now. Rapunzel was sure of it. It was just in the painting that she was a child.

It was still too early for many people to take to the docks and beaches, and there was a particular spot on the beaches, isolated by a hidden path obscured by foliage, where Rapunzel had used to go with Chryssa. In all the years she had visited, there had never been anyone there, but this time…

Sol.

Rapunzel waved back when Sol smiled up at her from where she knelt at the beach.

"Hey, Flynn," Sol said. "Leave us alone, this is quality time between girls. You don't get to stay, unless there's something you're not telling us."

"Fine!" Flynn threw up his hands. "Chaperoning is over for me, I guess. Well, Princess, I leave you in capable hands. You'll see me again soon enough, and probably, you'll see me way too much."

Rapunzel grinned and by the time she had said her goodbyes and looked back to the beach, Sol had begun releasing floating lanterns into the sea. Lotus candles, drifting lazily along the calm edges of the water, illuminated her face with a warm glow. But there was something different about her expression in that moment. It might even have been a trick of the light. Gone was the easy charm, replaced by fatigue that seemed much older than her short years.

Without looking up, Sol said, "Come and sit down!"

Rapunzel did so, taking a seat on the sand beside Sol.

"So, Flynn, huh…?"

Rapunzel flushed, and her face only reddened more when Sol began laughing. "It's not what you think! I couldn't leave the Temple without someone escorting me—"

"No, I get it," Sol said, grinning. "You're all grown up, so it's natural to have these types of feelings."

"Oh, God." Rapunzel peeked out of her hands. "But hey, how did you know about this spot?"

"Bringing Flynn to special spots, too?"

" _Sol_."

"You're not the only one who knows about this place," Sol said simply. She reached out, took Rapunzel's hand, and unfolded her fingers, one by one, before putting a lantern into her palm. "Here! Set one in the water. You're supposed to write a wish inside, but I think it'll work if you just think it. Think it really strongly, maybe?"

Rapunzel was still too flustered to reply with anything witty, or bring up the fact that she was carrying a pen, so instead she simply set the lantern into the sea and watched it intently as it drifted.

"Happy birthday, by the way," Sol said.

"…Thanks," Rapunzel said. "Not many people remember that."

"Twin princesses. It's not hard to remember it, just easy to overlook." Sol turned. "What was your wish? Oh, wait, you can't tell me or it won't come true—"

"I wished for my sister to come home."

Sol frowned.

"…It's not going to come true, I know," Rapunzel said. "I know it's stupid."

"I don't think so. She'd be happy that you still care." Sol was still for a very, very long second before she smiled, looking down as she moved back to her pile of lanterns.

"What are you wishing for?" Rapunzel asked.

Sol didn't say anything, and even as she set the candles adrift, they only sat silently, listening to the waves and the distant hymn of the memorial no doubt starting at the markets.

"Nothing," Sol said. "I just like the lights. Promise you won't laugh if I tell you something?"

"Yeah."

"I'm afraid of the dark. I don't even like to close my eyes for too long."

"…Oh."

Rapunzel watched Sol carefully. Her face was a blank mask, but one cracked with inexperience—or her emotions were simply too powerful to be contained. Bitterness seeped through in the curve of her lips, the faraway gaze of her eyes.

"I want you to promise me something else." Sol stood, taking one candle with her as she took a step towards the water, and then another, until she was standing atop its surface.

"Is there something wrong?" Rapunzel asked.

Sol smiled. "Please."

"…All right."

"When I die, I don't want to be buried," Sol said. "Promise you won't let that happen."

"Wait—Why are you talking about dying all of a sudden—"

"Death is usually sudden." Sol gestured towards the market, the castle, and her smile tightened. "Look how easily that princess disappeared. Just gone, out of the blue. Taken out of everyone's lives."

Rapunzel stayed silent as Sol walked across the water. If she were not walking atop it, but rather into it, the water would have risen above her head already.

"Being buried and forgotten…I don't want that. I don't want to end up rotting and smelling bad…I don't want to be eaten by worms. I don't want to be trapped in the dark." Sol lifted her candle. "When I die, I'm going to become light. Promise me, you'll burn my body."

"Sol, please—"

"Don't sound so horrified! I'm not planning on dying just yet," Sol said, laughing, but the usual teasing lilt of her voice vanished after only a second of reappearing. "Please, Rapunzel. That's freedom to me. My ashes cast into the wind…I'll be happy, then."

"Why?"

"You wonder where your sister is now, right?" Sol asked. "If she were wind, then she would be everywhere. You wouldn't have to look. Do you see what I mean?"

"No. I just want her here," Rapunzel said. "And I'd want _you_ here, too."

Sol blinked owlishly, like Rapunzel had just said something enlightening. "That's…interesting. Simple, but interesting. Simplicity does have its own charm."

"It's just how I feel."

Rapunzel took another lantern, and this one, she released into the sky to go the way of the wind.

"What else are you feeling?" Sol asked.

"Confused," Rapunzel said. "I just want to know if Chryssa is alive. It's awful to think, every year on my birthday, that I might be growing another year older than she'll ever be."

"Have you ever considered that, if you found her again, she might not be what you want?"

"I don't want her to _be_ anything."

"That can't be true. Everyone has expectations, and how often are they fulfilled? Even when they are, they're just replaced by new expectations, until you eventually fail. Maybe death is a release."

"I don't think so."

"Oh?"

"If you're dead, then you can't succeed in anything."

Once again, Sol stared at her soundlessly, until, this time, she burst into a diapason of laughter. "Yes, you're right! You're right. Death is…worthless. I can't die, yet. I still have too much to do."

"I don't understand," Rapunzel said, more urgently. "Sol, please, just tell me if something is wrong."

"Nothing. Like I said, you're right. I haven't seen it yet. I haven't seen good triumph over evil, that ultimate good be born, so I can't die." Sol laid down her candle and returned to shore, grinning from ear-to-ear. It was an unnatural smile. Manic, even, and it distorted Sol's naturally blessed features.

"Sometimes," Rapunzel said, "Sol, you scare me."

"I scare myself sometimes," Sol said.

"Please just…don't do anything reckless. Keep yourself safe." Rapunzel rose from her seat and brushed sand off her dress. "Well, I'm headed back to the castle, to say goodbye to Mama and Papa."

"I'm going to stay a little while longer. I doubt we'll see each other again before you go with Anna, so…I'll wish you good luck, now," Sol said. "And I finally made a wish on that last candle."

"What was it?"

"That you'll see your sister again," Sol said.

Rapunzel smiled, and she departed.

* * *

If Rapunzel had stayed just a little longer, she might have heard Sol's last sentence.

"It's my birthday too, Punzie."

* * *

Anna knew Elsa well enough to know that she wouldn't return, not until Anna had made her decision. It was just like her to do that, and Anna appreciated it, actually. She wouldn't try to make a decision for her, not like she had tried, once, in her misguided attempt to _save_ Elsa, to dictate Elsa's life.

So Anna had spent the rest of the day visiting other people, seeing other things, hoping an answer would come.

"You're not coming with us?" Anna asked.

"No, I should be going back," Alek said. "Truth be told, I'm worried about Hans."

"Oh."

"Don't look so disappointed," Alek said, sighing. "It's not like I've been useful at all. I'm just a normal person with a sword, and right now, that's not what you need."

"That's not true. You're my _friend_."

Alek smiled.

"Why are you worried about Hans? Is he doing all right?" Anna asked.

"It's…I'm not sure. After seeing some people here, I have an idea, but I hope I'm wrong." Alek shrugged. "Don't worry. Hans has that thing to communicate with Elsa, so I'll let you know."

"Okay."

"By the way." Alek lightly rapped his knuckle on her forehead. "We're even now. I saved you that first night I came here, and you saved me from that bastard, Brennus. Next time, I'm cutting off his tail."

"It's…not quite like that."

"Sure it is," Alek said. "That's why I'm not worried about you leaving. Not because Elsa will be with you—I know that you can take care of yourself."

"Alek…" Anna shook her head. "I can't control it."

"You're stubborn. I'd bet money that you could, if you wanted to," Alek said. "And…like I said before. I trust you. Trust in yourself too, Anna."

There was little more to be said.

Anna left soon, after they gave their goodbyes. Nothing protracted, because Anna was sure that they would see each other again—and she refused to give this farewell any note of finality.

Even though they said nothing about this, she was sure that Alek agreed.

And, finally, there was one other person she wanted to see.

"Anna!" Lazarus said, sitting up in bed when she knocked on his door and entered. "It's good to see you. I'm sorry that I can't get up to greet you, but—"

"No, I'm really sorry if I'm disturbing your rest," Anna said.

"Of course not, visitors are always welcome." Lazarus gestured for her to sit at the small table in his room, and she did so. "What brings you here?"

"Well, umm, to see how you were doing…"

"Alive, and relatively unhurt," Lazarus said.

"…and there was something I wanted to ask you."

Lazarus nodded. Anna suspected he had seen right through her from the moment she knocked, and she felt slightly guilty about not visiting strictly for visiting. After all, Lazarus had been kind to her ever since she arrived at the Temple.

"It's about something in the past. It…might be sensitive," Anna said.

"But you need to ask, so the answer must be important to you," Lazarus said. "What use is experience if not shared? That's why the old people are here, Anna. To answer questions."

Anna fiddled with her fingers, thinking of the best way to word her question.

"Brennus told me, about Taranis…you were…"

"I assume he told you that I was complicit in the murder of his friends," Lazarus said. Anna took in a sharp intake of breath. She hadn't been expecting him to be so forthright. "It's all true. We were ordered to execute them for treason, even though they did nothing but protest the Order."

"…Why?"

"You'll understand soon that people are…odd. They will do horrible things, things even they thought they would never do, if they believe they are just and good." Lazarus shook his head. "I didn't shoot—it might be why Taranis is alive. But…I did nothing to stop it, and complicity is just as damning."

"Before, when you told me that it's hard to act," Anna said. "Were you thinking about this?"

"Yes. You're a stronger person than me, Anna."

Anna didn't answer.

"Maybe it's karma, but my son joined the Order because of me, and he was killed only a few years later…during Elsa's invasion," Lazarus continued.

Anna couldn't have known—Lazarus had never once seemed antagonistic when talking to Elsa, and even talking _about_ Elsa he had never been anything less than respectful. "Do you hate her for it?" she asked.

"No."

"Really?"

Lazarus smiled wryly. He wasn't lying—but it couldn't be easy. "Like I said, people are easily misled. I know enough about her history not to begrudge her for the past. History will make its own judgment, and more importantly, Elsa will. She's making her own decisions, and…I admire that. Truly, I do. Just as I admire it in you, Anna."

Lazarus broke into a fit of dry coughs, and Anna hurriedly handed him a glass of water.

"I'm sorry for bothering you so much," Anna said.

"May _I_ ask something?"

Hesitantly, Anna nodded.

"I can tell that you're trying to decide on something, and I won't ask what that is, exactly," Lazarus said. "Doubt isn't bad, but…crippling yourself with it isn't helpful."

"…I know."

"Then my question is: What's stopping you, Anna?"

 _Magic._

She could do horrible things with magic. She had _already_ done horrible things with magic, had been tested by temptation and failed.

 _Myself._

Because she had done those things and, handed power all over again, she couldn't trust herself not to repeat her mistakes.

 _But I can't just do nothing._

* * *

She was sitting on the bridge, watching the moon, and Anna stood there just watching her for a minute before she took careful steps past the threshold.

"Hey, Elsa."

Elsa turned, smiling.

"I won't be afraid anymore."


End file.
